Columbia  (Bntftem'tp 
mtljeCitpofJUrttigork 

THE   LIBRARIES 


Bequest  of 

Frederic  Bancroft 

1860-1945 


REMINISCENCES, 


Sketches  and  Addeesses 


SELECTED  FROM  MY  PAPERS 


During  a  Ministry  of  Forty-five  Years 


IN  MISSISSIPPI,  LOUISIANA  AND  TEXAS. 


BY 

EEY.  I.  E.  HUTCHISON  D.D. 


HOUSTON,  TEXAS: 

E.  H.  GUSHING,  PUBLISHER, 

1874. 


o  - 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1874,  by 

E.  H.  GUSHING, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  "Washington, 


/  ^^.Sxf-  i) 


c  c      % 


Lange,  Little  &  Co., 

PKINTKES,  KLKCTBOTVPERS  AND  STKBKOTYPEKS. 

108  TO  114  WoosTER  Street,  N.  Y. 


oo]srTE:^Ts 


PAGE 

Personal  Recollections 7 

CPresbyterianism  in  the  Southwest: 
Origin  of  Oakland  College — Murder  of  President  Cham- 
berlain  21 

("history  of  the  Church  of  Bethel  and  Rodney 29 

Physical  Science 35 

Dueling  in  Vicksburg 51 

The  Code  of  Honor 55 

The  Dignity  of  the  Ministerial  Office 70 

History  of  the  Presbyterian  Church,  Houston,  Texas  .  84 

Rev.  J.  M.  Atkinson 85 

Rev.  J.  W.  Miller 85 

Rev.  L.  S.  Gibson 85 

Rev.  Alex.  Fairbairn. 86 

Rev.  Jerome  Twichell 86 

Rev.  R.  H.  Byers 86 

Rev.  Thos.  Castleton 86 

Rev.  J.  R.  Hutchison,  D.  D 87 

Rev.  Wm.  Somerville 87 

Rev.  Jno.  J.  Read 87 

The  Sabbath 88 

A  Christmas  Story 99 

The  Hope  of  the  Nation 108 

The  Glory  of  the  Chltich 117 

Universal  Benevolence 125 

Moral  Insanity ,   . .  .136 

Love  of  Money 139 

Influence 141 


VI  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Semi-Centennial  of  Presbyterianism  in  New  Orleans  .  146 

The  Services 147 

An  Historical  Paper  on  the  Origin  and  Growth  of  Pres- 

byterianism  in  the  City  of  New  Orleans 147 

Reminiscences 168 

The  Origin  and  Growth  of  Preshyterianism  in  the  South- 
west  173 

Texas 183 

Indians  in  Texas 184 

The  French  in  Texas 185 

The  First  White  Man  Lost  in  Texas 187 

The  Spaniards  in  Texas 189 

Americans  in  Texas 191 

First  American  Colony  in  Texas 194 

Galveston  Island 196 

The  Fall  of  the  Alamo 198 

Capture  and  Slaughter  of  Fannin's  Men  at  Goliad 201 

Battle  of  San  Jacinto 205 

Religion  in  Texas 208 

Animals  of  Texas 211 

Early  Churches  in  Texas 212 

Letter  from  Nashville  : 

The  Texas  Dead  of   Hood's  Brigade  at  the  Battle  of 
Franklin 216 


PEESONAL   EECOLLEOTIONS. 


During  ray  long  residence  in  the  Southwest,  I  have 
often  been  surprised  at  the  want  of  interest  manifested 
in  the  preservation  of  family  reminiscences.  Many 
grandchildren  know  not  where  their  grandparents  came 
from.  An  adventurer  from  the  North  strays  off  to  this 
new  land  of  promise,  forms  new  family  ties,  and  finally 
dies  and  is  buried,  and  carries  to  an  unmarked  grave 
much  which  his  sons  should  have  been  proud  to  remem- 
ber and  transmit  to  their  posterity.  Even  titles  to  land 
have  been  forfeited  by  this  neglect  of  parental  or  filial 
oblioation.  I  have  almost  literally  helped  in  decipher- 
ing the  dim  records  of  old  gravestones  to  aid  Northern 
claimants  to  establish  heirship  to  Southern  dead  men's 
property.  What  an  unexpected  surprise  to  a  descend- 
ant of  Dr.  Timothy  Dwight,  if  in  some  old  Georgia 
cabin  were  yet  to  turn  up  a  quaint  tin  box,  containing 
the  long-lost  original  title-deeds  of  his  father  and  Gen- 
eral Lyman  to  all  that  rich  section  of  country  embrac- 
ing the  city  of  Natchez  and  the  surrounding  region  ! 
But  it  is  in  reference  to  what  is  more  precious  than  lost 
land-titles  that  I  would  infuse  a  new  spirit  into  every 
rising  Southern  village.  Pride  of  ancestry  is  as  valua- 
ble at  the  South  as  at  the  North,  and  should  contribute 
as  much  in  building  up  a  Texan  family  as  a  New  Eng- 
land town. 

I  was  born  in  Columbia  County,  in  the  State  of  Penn- 
sylvania, on  the  12th  of  February,  1807.  I  am  a  lineal 
descendant,  by  my  father's  side,  of  those  noble  patriots 


8  PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS. 

who  maintained  the  celebrated  siege  of  Deny,  in  the 
north  of  Ireland,  against  the  combined  forces  of  James 
of  England  and  the  king  of  France.  This  siege  lasted 
from  December,  1688,  to  August,  1689.  From  this 
dates  the  "  Protestant  succession,"  and  William,  Prince 
of  Orange,  ascended  the  British  throne.  The  sufferings 
of  the  people,  during  that  memorable  occasion,  equal 
anything  to  be  found  in  the  records  of  English  history. 
For  several  generations  after  coming  to  this  country, 
there  was  preserved  in  my  family  a  knife  with  which 
the  original  owner,  of  the  name  of  Hutchison,  dug  up 
roots  beneath  the  walls  of  Derry  upon  which  to  subsist 
during  the  horrors  of  that  terrible  siege.  (Read  Mac- 
aulay's  England  and  Charlotte  Elizabeth's  Sketches.) 

At  what  time  my  family  crossed  the  Atlantic  I  am 
unable  to  say.  I  think  it  was  in  1732.  But  my  grand- 
father, Joseph  Hutchison,  ^vas  a  native  American,  and 
was  born  in  Dauphin  County,  Pennsylvania,  near  the 
spot  where  now  stands  the  city  of  Harrisburg,  the 
capital  of  the  State. 

In  early  times  the  Susquehanna,  as  well  as  all  other 
Northern  rivers,  abounded  in  shad.  It  was  customary, 
immediately  after  wheat-harvest,  in  those  days,  for 
neighbors  to  assemble  together,  and  in  a  short  time,  by 
dragging  the  seine,  to  supply  their  families  with  fish  suffi- 
cient to  last  during  the  ensuing  winter.  During  my 
grandfather's  boyhood,  in  one  of  those  assemblies  of  the 
farmers  for  fishing,  a  violent  thunderstorm  coming  up, 
my  great-grandfather  took  shelter  under  a  tree  on  a 
small  island  opposite  where  the  city  of  Harrisburg  now 
stands,  and  was  instantly  killed  by  a  stroke  of  light- 
ning. 

Soon  after  the  birth  of  my  father,  my  grandfather 
and  his  brother  Samuel  removed  to  that  part  of  North- 
umberland County  (Pennsylvania)  now  called  Columbia 


PERSONAL   RECOIJLECTIONS.  9 

County,  where  they  purchased  a  large  tract  of  land  on 
the  Cliillisqnuque  Greek,  near  the  present  village  of 
Washiugtonville,  and  midway  between  Danville  and 
Milton.  This  purchase  included  Bosley's  Mills,  where 
there  was  a  small  fort  during  the  Revolutionary  AVar. 
This  neighborhood  '^vas  the  scene  of  many  stirring  inci- 
dents in  the  early  settlement  of  tlie  country.  I  remem- 
ber, when  a  child,  of  hearing  many  romantic  and  thrill- 
ing incidents  of  border  Avarfare  and  Indian  barbarities. 
Whole  settlements  were  often  broken  u]),  and  the  in- 
habitants killed  or  scattered.  It  was  customary  for 
families,  on  a  sudden  incursion  of  Indians,  to  hide  their 
most  valuable  articles  of  property  and  flee  to  some  more 
populous  and  better  defended  locality.  I  have,  when  a 
child,  seen  various  articles,  such  as  pots,  gridirons,  gar- 
ments, etc.,  turned  up  by  the  plough  in  my  grandfa- 
ther's field,  where  they  were  buried  in  baste  by  tlie  flee- 
ing inhabitants.  The  place  of  my  nativity  is  about 
thirty  miles  south  of  the  valley  of  Wyoming,  the  scene 
of  a  massacre  by  Indians  and  Tories  which  will  be  for- 
ever remembered  in  the  annals  of  the  country. 

I  will  here  relate  an  incident  which  I  heard  from  my 
mother,  and  which  illustrates  the  state  of  the  times  and 
the  character  of  the  people.  At  the  massacre  of  Wyo- 
ming the  whole  region  was  aroused  and  the  people  fled 
to  the  block-houses.  My  mother,  then  a  small  girl, 
and  residing  with  an  aunt,  had  to  flee  with  the  rest. 
Hungry  and  exhausted,  and  gaining  a  respite  from  their 
savage  pursuers,  she  and  her  young  friends  supplied 
themselves  with  a  quantity  of  red  apples,  taken  from  a 
crib  on  the  wayside  which  had  been  abandoned  by  its 
owners.  When  this  act  of  taking  the  fruit  came  to  the 
knowledge  of  the  parents  and  guardians  of  the  children, 
it  was  construed  into  a  species  of  theft,  and  though  in 
the  direction  of  their  Indian  pursuers,  all  were  required 


10  PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS. 

to  retrace  their  steps  and  replace  the  apples,  and  thus 
run  the  risk  of  meeting  the  Indians.  Such  a  require- 
ment in  a  parent  or  guardian  in  our  day  would  have 
been  viewed  by  most  persons  as  a  cruel  exposure  of  the 
life  of  a  child.  But  in  those  days  children  were  taught 
elevated  views  of  morality,  and  the  slightest  approach 
to  theft  or  falsehood  was  most  promptly  punished.  The 
effect  upon  the  mind  of  my  mother  of  this  severe  test 
of  her  courage  and  obedience  was  most  beneficial,  and 
she  often  alluded  to  the  incident  in  her  family  as  exert- 
ing a  happy  influence  on  her  character  in  all  subsequent 
life. 

My  father,  Andrew  Hutchison,  the  second  son  of  my 
grandfather,  was  a  man  of  fine  personal  ajDpearance,  of 
medium  size,  of  great  muscular  activity,  and  was  very 
popular  in  his  neighborhood.  Possessing  a  better  edu- 
cation than  most  other  young  men  of  his  day,  his  ser- 
vices were  in  great  demand  as  a  surveyor,  a  writer  of 
deeds,  letters,  etc.  His  earlier  days  were  spent  in  at- 
tending the  mills  of  his  father  and  uncle,  and  towards 
manhood  he  was  engaged  in  teaching  school.  He  mar- 
ried young  and  settled  on  a  small  farm  adjoining  that 
of  my  grandfather.  In  1813  he  was  chosen  colonel  of 
a  regiment  of  militia  which  was  ordered  to  the  northern 
frontier  to  engage  in  the  war  with  Great  Britain. 
Though  but  six  years  old  at  the  time,  I  remember  every 
important  event  that  occurred — the  frequent  mustering 
of  the  militia,  my  father's  gay  military  dress,  the  patri- 
otic songs,  and  many  other  thrilling  incidents  of  a  time 
of  war.  At  last,  my  father's  departure  for  Black  Rock, 
my  mother's  tears,  and  the  adieus  of  friends  are  all  re- 
membered. Equally  well  do  I  remember  my  father's 
return  in  a  short  time — his  illness,  his  death,  in  dead 
of  winter,  amid  the  deep  snow,  the  grave  (the  first  I 
had  ever  seen),  and  the  painful  impression  I  long  enter- 


PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS.  11 

tained  of  his  confinement  in  the  cold  ground.  The 
first  dead  man  I  ever  saw  was  my  father. 

After  my  father's  death  my  mother  continued  to  re- 
side on  the  same  farm,  and  support  and  educate  her 
family  of  five  children,  the  eldest  of  whom  was  ten 
years  old.  She  was  a  woman  of  remarkable  energy  of 
character.  At  this  distant  day,  her  many  virtues,  ren- 
dered prominent  by  her  heroic  struggles  with  compara- 
tive poverty,  stand  out  before  my  mind  in  bold  relief. 
She  was  a  woman  of  great  decision  of  character,  and  in 
great  demand  as  a  counselor  in  the  neighborhood.  After 
my  father's  death  (who  was  a  professor  of  religion  and 
maintained  family  worship)  my  mother  continued  the 
practice  of  praying  in  her  family,  and  maintained  it 
while  she  lived.  She  labored  faithfully,  and  often  with 
tears,  to  impress  upon  the  minds  of  her  children  the 
importance  of  youthful  piety.  My  earliest  and  most 
important  religious  impressions  were  produced  by  her 
instructions  and  prayers.  She  was  firm  but  tender  in 
domestic  discipline,  often  weeping  when  using  the  rod, 
mingling  tears  with  correction.  Precious  is  the  memo- 
ry of  my  mother. 

In  recalling  the  scenes  and  incidents  of  my  childhood, 
I  wish  here  to  record  my  unbounded  admiration  of  the 
character  of  the  Scotch-Irish  Presbyterians,  who  were 
the  principal  settlers  of  the  middle  counties  of  Pennsyl- 
vania, and  of  many  other  States  of  the  Union.  Much 
has  been  said,  and  with  justice,  of  the  noble  character 
of  the  Puritans,  the  Huguenots,  and  cavaliers.  But  the 
influence  which  has  been  exerted  upon  the  nation  by  the 
Scotch-Irish  element,  spread  out  as  it  now  is  throughout 
Pennsylvania,  Western  Virginia,  the  Carolinas,  New 
York,  Eastern  Mississippi,  and  all  the  Western  States,  can 
never  be  fully  appreciated.  I  glory  in  my  descent  from 
such  a  noble  stock.    My  impression  also  is  that  much 


12  PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS. 

more  information  was  communicated,  when  I  was  young, 
by  oral  instruction,  than  at  the  present  time.  Old 
people  rehearsed  by  the  fireside  the  incidents  of  their 
early  days  and  what  they  had  heard  from  their  fathers, 
and  the  young  were  eager  listeners.  Though  books  and 
newspapers  and  traveling  afford  greater  means  of  impart- 
ing knowledge  now  than  then,  yet  I  doubt  whether 
youth  are  better  taught  in  useful  things,  or  have  the 
more  important  faculties  both  of  mind  and  heart  better 
developed  at  the  present  day  than,  formerly. 
My  mother  died  when  I  was  eight  years  old. 

"  My  mother,  when  I  learned  that  thou  wast  dead. 
Say,  wast  thou  conscious  of  the  tears  I  shed  ? 
Hover'd  thy  spirit  o'er  thy  sorrowing  son. 
Wretch,  even  then,  life's  journey  just  begun  ?  " 

Immediately  after  the  death  of  my  mother,  our  fami- 
ly (five  in  number)  were  scattered  among  our  relatives. 
I  became  a  member  of  the  family  of  my  uncle,  the  Eev. 
John  Hutchison,  of  MifiBlintown,  Juniata  County  (Penn- 
sylvania). He  was  the  only  full  brother  of  my  father, 
by  whom  I  was  adopted  and  educated.  He  was  a  supe- 
rior man  in  almost  every  respect.  He  graduated  at 
Dickinson  College  (Pennsylvania),  under  the  presidency 
of  the  celebrated  Dr.  Nesbitt.  In  1805  he  assumed  the 
pastoral  charge  of  the  churches  of  Miffiintown  and  Lost 
Creek,  where  he  continued  to  labor  until  his  death, 
which  took  place  on  the  11th  of  November,  1844,  hav- 
ing retained  the  charge  of  the  same  churches  for  thirty- 
nine  years.  Few  ministers  of  the  Gospel  in  Central 
Pennsylvania  have  lived  more  honored  and  died  more 
lamented  than  he.  He  was  a  man  of  great  purity  and 
simplicity — an  entertaining  companion,  a  firm  friend,  a 
wise  counselor,  a  patient  endurer  of  reproach,  and  a 
fearless  defender  of  the  faith.    He  seemed  to  have  pos- 


PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS.  13 

sessed  an  intuitive  knowledge  of  human  nature.  Tlie 
motives  of  men  seemed  to  reveal  themselves  at  once  to 
his  view.  He  was  the  last  man  on  whom  any  one  could 
palm  an  imposition.  lie  was  also  famed  throughout 
the  country  for  great  neatness  and  system  in  all  the 
ordinary  affairs  of  life.  His  house,  his  apparel,  his  do- 
mestic economy,  his  traveling  equipage,  were  all  e-^res- 
sive  of  the  order  and  native  sense  of  propriety  which 
characterized  him.  His  attainments  as  a  scholar  and 
theologian  were  of  a  highly  respectable  order,  and  for 
many  years  he  was  a  prominent  member  of  Hunt- 
ington Presbytery.  Like  many  of  the  Presbyterian 
clergymen  of  the  Northern  States,  he  devoted  much  of 
his  time  and  attention  to  classical  studies.  His  acade- 
my was  known  for  more  than  thirty  years  as  the  best  in 
all  Central  Pennsylvania,  and  his  Latin  and  Greek 
scholars  always  took  a  high  position  upon  entering  any 
of  the  colleges  of  the  State.  A  large  number  of  the 
professional  men  in  the  middle  counties  of  Pennsylva- 
nia were  trained  under  his  tuition.  At  the  age  of  thir- 
teen I  commenced  the  study  of  the  Latin  and  Greek 
languages.  When  I  arrived  at  the  age  of  seventeen  I 
became  his  assistant,  and  thus  secured  the  means  of  fin- 
ishing my  college  course.  1  thus  had  an  opportunity 
of  attaining  a  degree  of  accuracy  in  classical  studies 
which  has  proved  of  essential  advantage  to  me  in  all 
my  subsequent  life. 

I  wpuld  here  remark  that,  after  having  been  for  a  long 
time  professor  of  the  Latin,  Greek,  and  Hebrew  lan- 
guages, it  is  my  opinion  that  better  classical  scholars 
Avere  made  fifty  years  ago  than  now.  Several  causes 
may  be  assigned  for  the  present  degeneracy:  First.  In 
the  present  day  boys  are  taught  too  many  things  in  con- 
nection with  languages.  Second.  The  many  new  gram- 
mars and  new  editions  of  the  classics,  with  their  various 


14  PERSONAL  EECOLLECTIONS. 

helps,  explanations,  and  English  notes,  are  no  real  im- 
provement on  the  old  ones.  These  modern  lielps  to 
study  prevent  study.  Tliird.  Teachers  have  degener- 
ated. Now,  our  teachers  are  young  men,  nice  young 
men,  possessed  of  great  self-esteem,  intending  to  study 
law  or  medicine,  and  making  teaching  only  a  stepping- 
stone  to  something  else.  In  my  early  day,  teachers 
were  usually  Presbyterian  ministers,  or  candidates  for 
the  ministry,  who  loved  to  teach,  who  knew  how  to 
teach,  and  who  had  a  reputation  to  sustain.  Fourth. 
Boys  in  the  present  day  are  more  difficult  to  be  taught 
than  formerly.  They  are  not  taught  as  much  at  home 
as  in  former  years.  Especially,  their  memories  are  not 
drilled,  as  they  once  were,  by  committing  to  memory 
the  (xeneral  Assembly's  shorter  catechism.  Conse- 
quently, they  are  not  so  capable  of  committing  with 
accuracy  the  Latin  and  Greek  grammars.  I  have  always 
noticed  that  the  sons  of  old-fashioned  Presbyterians 
usually  make  the  best  classical  scholars.  Their  superior 
religious  training  renders  them  more  susceptible  of  a 
thorough  classical  training.  From  these  and  other  con- 
siderations, I  am  more  and  more  convinced  that  if  we 
would  have  better  scholarship  in  our  colleges,  we  must 
have  our  youth  prepared,  not  in  preparatory  schools, 
but  by  the  pastors  of  our  churches,  or  in  parochial 
schools  under  their  care. 

I  resided  in  Mifflintown  from  1815  to  1824.  Those 
years  constitute  the  most  important  period  of  my  life. 
I  can  now  trace  back  almost  all  my  habits  and  my  pecu- 
liarities of  character  to  that  period.  My  residence  in 
my  uncle's  family  imposed  upon  me  the  duty  of  work 
as  well  as  of  study.  Gardening,  the  providing  of  fire- 
wood in  winter,  the  care  of  horses,  cows,  etc.,  were,  for- 
tunately for  me,  combined  with  intellectual  culture, 
thus  giving  the  best  means  of  developing  the  powers 


PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS.  15 

both  of  mind  and  body.  Having  also  access  to  all 
kinds  of  books,  I  then  formed  habits  of  general  read- 
ing, and  by  some  assistance  and  close  application  I 
qnaliik'd  myself  for  entering  the  Junior  Class  in  Jeffer- 
son College.  How  often  do  I  now  revert  in  thought  to 
those  pleasant  by-gone  days.  Within  a  few  months 
past,  I  was  once  more  permitted  to  revisit  those  scenes 
of  my  youth,  after  an  absence  of  twenty  years.  But 
alas,  how  changed!  Nature  was  there.  There  were 
the  bold  Alleghany  Mountains,  the  green  hills,  the 
beautiful  stream  of  the  Juniata.  But  almost  all  the 
companions  of  my  youth  and  my  kindred  were  no  more. 
Strange  faces  looked  upon  me,  and  I  found  myself  more 
at  home  among  the  tombs  of  the  dead  than  in  the  dwell- 
ings of  the  living. 

In  the  Spring  of  1825, 1  left  Mifflintown  for  Jefferson 
College,  Cannonsburg  (Pennsylvania).  Stopping  at 
Pittsburg  for  a  few  days,  I  had  the  opportunity  of  see- 
ing the  distinguished  General  La  Fayette,  the  compan- 
ion of  Washington,  the  eai-iy  and  devoted  friend  of  the 
struggling  American  colonies,  who  was  then  revisiting 
the  scenes  of  his  early  battles  in  the  cause  of  liberty, 
and  whose  progress  through  the  country  resembled  a 
continued  Roman  triumph. 

I  entered  the  Junior  Class  in  Jefferson  College  half 
advanced.  The  class  consisted  of  thirty  members.  Jef- 
ferson College,  at  the  time  I  entered  it,  was  in  its  zen- 
ith. It  was  the  most  prominent  institution  west  of 
the  Alleghany  Mountains,  and  under  the  long  presi- 
dency of  Dr.  Matthew  Brown,  it  furnished  the  ministry 
which  gave  character  to  the  Presbyterian  Church  in  all 
that  vast  region  of  country.  Rev.  Aaron  Williams  and 
Rev.  Dr.  A.  T.  McGill,  now  professor  at  Princeton  (New 
Jersey)  were  my  associates  in  study.  I  entered  the 
Theological  Seminary  at  Princeton  in  the  Fall  of  1826. 


16  PEBSONAL  EECOLLECTIONS. 

My  health  failing  in  two  years,  I  became  an  inmate  for 
a  few  months  in  the  family  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  E.  S.  Ely, 
pastor  of  the  Pine  Street  Church,  Philadelphia.  Dr. 
Ely  was  at  that  time  at  the  height  of  his  f\ime  as  a  pop- 
ular preacher,  a  leader  in  ecclesiastical  courts,  a  man  of 
wealth,  a  skillful  financier,  a  patron  of  all  public  insti- 
tutions, and  the  liberal  friend  and  helper  of  all  young 
men  seeking  the  ministry  of  the  Gospel.  Though  a 
man  of  eccentricity,  "  full  of  fat,  fun,  and  fortune,"  yet 
he  exerted  for  many  years  a  controlling  influence  in  all 
matters  connected  with  the  Presbyterian  Church  in  the 
Middle  States.  About  the  year  1831,  he  became  a 
prominent  leader  in  an  effort  to  found  a  great  Western 
city  on  the  Missouri  River.  Many  persons,  by  his  influ- 
ence and  wealth,  were  induced  to  unite  with  him  in 
this  plausible  scheme.  Many  widows,  and  others  hav- 
ing the  control  of  small  means  throughout  the  country, 
cast  in  their  lot  with  him  and  invested  their  all — and 
Marion  City,  near  Alton,  for  a  short  time  bid  fair  to  rise 
to  some  eminence.  But  the  pecuniary  revulsion  which 
spread  over  the  whole  country  in  1837-8,  fell  upon  all 
such  enterprises  with  a  stunning  blow.  The  greater 
portion  of  the  people  assembled  at  Marion  City  were 
dispersed,  their  means  were  squandered,  their  health  and 
spirits  broken,  their  chief  leaders  abandoned  the  project, 
and  Dr.  Ely,  broken  in  fortune  and  spirits,  returned  to 
Philadelphia.  Though  Dr.  Ely's  course  in  the  incidents 
just  narrated,  and  also  in  the  part  he  took  in  the  divis- 
ion of  the  Presbyterian  Church  into  Old  and  Xew  School, 
is  certainly  to  be  condemned,  yet  he  deserved  great 
honor  while  he  lived,  and  his  memory  should  be  still 
cherished  since  his  death,  for  the  great  good  he  accom- 
plished in  the  earlier  period  of  his  life.  Multitudes  of 
young  men  were  aided  by  him  in  their  efforts  to  enter 
the  ministry.     His  residence  in  Philadelphia  was  the 


PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS.  17 

abode  of  elegant  liospitality.  Tlie  Jefferson  Mediccil 
College  was  founded  mainly  by  his  efforts.  Many 
widows  and  orphans  were  clothed  and  fed  by  his  money; 
and  for  many  years  he  expended  thdwhole  of  his  salary 
from  his  congregation  in  acts  of  benevolence.  I  must 
place  on  record  this  tribute  to  the  name  of  Dr.  Ezra 
Stiles  Ely. 

On  the  22d  of  April,  1829,  and  when  in  my  twenty- 
second  year,  I  was  licensed  to  preach  the  Gospel  by  the 
Presbytery  of  Philadelphia,  at  Frankfort,  a  village  some 
miles  from  the  city.  Two  other  young  men  were  li- 
censed at  the  same  time :  Rev.  Nicholas  Murray,  now 
deceased,  for  many  years  pastor  of  the  First  Presbyteri- 
an Ciiurch  at  Elizabethtown  (New  Jersey),  a  man  emi- 
nent for  his  learning,  and  particularly  a  popular  writer 
against  Catholicism,  over  the  name  of  "Kirwan."  The 
other  was  the  Rev.  Alexander  Aikman,  of  Bordentown 
(New  Jersey),  a  young  man  of  varied  attainments  in 
learning  and  theology,  who  was  sent  to  New  Orleans  in 
1832  to  take  charge  of  the  First  Presbyterian  Church 
in  that  city,  rendered  vacant  by  the  deposition  from  the 
ministry  of  Rev.  Theodore  Clapp  by  the  Presbytery  of 
Mississippi.  Mr.  Aikman  commenced  his  labors  under 
most  encouraging  auspices,  and  did  much  to  divest 
Presbyterianism  of  the  odium  under  which  it  had  been 
suffering  for  many  years  from  the  misrepresentations  of 
Mr.  Clapp.  But  in  a  short  time  his  health  failed,  and, 
leaving  New  Orleans,  he  came  to  Natchez,  where,  after 
lingering  for  some  weeks,  he  died.  His  sun  went  down 
at  noon. 

My  first  appearance  in  the  pulpit  was  at  Norristown, 
in  Montgomery  County,  about  twenty  miles  from  Phila- 
delphia. In  the  month  of  October,  1829,  I  started  for 
Mississippi,  landed  at  Rodney,  walked  out  to  the  resi- 
dence of  Dr.  Rush  Nutt  (two  miles  from  the  river); 


18  PEKSONAL  EECO'lLECTIONS. 

remained  in  that  vicinity,  preaching  at  Rodney  and 
Bethel,  until  July  following,  when  I  removed  to  Baton 
Rouge  (Louisiana) ;  succeeded  Rev.  John  Dorrance  as 
pastor  of  the  church  ;  married  on  the  20th  of  September, 
1832 ;  in  January,  1834,  became  connected  with  the  Col- 
lege of  Louisiana  at  Jackson ;  went  as  a  delegate  to  the 
General  Assembly  at  Pittsburg  in  May,  1836 ;  visited 
New  England  during  the  summer  of  that  year;  returned 
to  Louisiana  in  the  fall ;  accepted  a  call  to  the  church  of 
Vicksburg,  with  a  salary  of  13,000,  where  I  remained 
pastor  for  six  years ;  then  accepted  a  professorship  in 
Oakland  College,  which  I  held  for  twelve  years ;  then 
resigned  in  1854,  and  removed  to  Covington  (Louisiana), 
where  I  had  charge  of  a  private  seminary  of  learning 
for  three  years,  preaching  also  during  the  same  time  at 
Covington  and  Madisonville ;  then  removed  to  New 
Orleans,  and  purchased  the  property  called  the  Brick 
House  Station,  on  the  Carrollton  Railroad,  where  I 
established  a  male  high  school,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
preaching  at  Carrollton  Church  and  the  Prytania  Street 
Church  in  the  city.  In  the  fall  of  1860  I  removed  to 
Houston,  in  Texas,  and  took  charge  of  the  Public 
Academy;  was  removed  from  the  institution  by  the 
military  authorities  of  the  Confederate  States,  which 
converted  the  establishment  into  a  hospital ;  then 
opened  a  private  male  and  female  academy  at  Turner's 
Hall,  where  I  also  preached  to  the  Presbyterian  Church 
until  their  edifice,  which  was  burned  down,  was  rebuilt. 
At  the  close  of  my  superintendence  of  the  Public  Acad- 
emy of  Houston  I  had  one  hundred  and  fifty  male  and 
female  pupils. 

At  the  close  of  the  war,  in  1865, 1  became  deeply  con- 
cerned as  to  my  duty  in  reference  to  the  spiritual  deso- 
lations of  the  villages  and  churches  within  the  bounds 
of  the  Brazos  Presbytery,  and  accessible  by  railroads 


PERSONAL  RECOLIiECTIONS.  19 

from  the  city  of  Houston.  My  convictions  of  duty  iu 
this  mutter  led  me  to  open  a  correspondence  with  my 
ministerial  brethren  in  the  region  referred  to,  asking 
their  advice  and  co-operation,  and  inquiring  whether 
my  entrance  into  the  field  would  meet  their  approval, 
and  ill  no  way  interfere  with  their  respective  fields  of 
labor.  From  all  with  whom  I  corresponded  I  received 
cordial  encouragement.  And  then  the  question  pre- 
sented itself  to  my  mind,  "  How  shall  I  obtain  a  pecu- 
niary support  ?  "  for,  up  to  the  close  of  the  war,  no  reor- 
ganization of  the  Presbyterian  Church  had  been  efiected 
within  the  boundsof  the  Confederate  States.  The  Cor- 
responding Secretary  of  the  Board  of  Domestic  Missions 
at  Philadelphia,  intimated,  through  a  third  party,  that, 
on  evidence  of  "loyalty,"  a  sufficient  salary  would  be 
secured  to  me,  if  I  would  enter  upon  the  same  field. 
Such  a  proposition  I  could  not  entertain.  In  the  fall 
of  1866,  in  a  conference  with  some  prominent  members 
of  the  Church,  I  was  urged  to  carry  out  my  original 
purpose ;  and  the  late  Thomas  M.  Bagly,  of  Houston, 
and  Mr.  James  Sorley,  of  Galveston,  placed  in  my  hands 
$50  each,  as  a  salary  for  the  month  of  January,  in  18G7, 
to  justify  me  to  leave  my  home  and  commence  my  work. 
It  was  agreed  and  understood  that  I  should  explore  the 
whole  field,  ascertain  the  Presbyterian  element  in  each 
destitute  community,  preach  the  Gospel,  organize 
churches,  and  prepare  the  way  for  the  settlement  of 
pastors  and  stated  supplies.  On  the  1st  of  January, 
1867,  I  commenced  my  labors,  visiting  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible the  towns  of  Hempstead,  Chappell  Hill,  Navesota, 
Eichmond,  Harrisburg,  Columbus,  Alleytown  and  Beau- 
mont. AVithin  six  months  from  the  commencement  of 
the  year,  I  had  reorganized  the  churches  of  Hempstead 
and  Chappell  Hill,  and  organized  new  churches  at 
Navesota  and  Bryan  City.     During  the  first  year  of  my 


20  PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS. 

mission,  I  received  no  formal  recognition  from  the 
Presbytery,  and  no  pecnniary  aid,  excepting  from  the 
two  brethren  above  named,  and  from  the  voluntary 
contributions  of  the  people  to  whom  I  ministered.  And 
during  no  single  month,  from  the  commencement  of 
my  services  until  now  (1874),  has  my  entire  income 
ever  exceeded  one  hundred  dollars.  At  all  the  points 
where  I  have  labored,  I  have  always  been  emphatic, 
both  in  my  private  and  public  announcements,  that  so 
soon  as  any  congregation  may  think  itself  able  to  call  a 
pastor  or  stated  supply  of  its  own,  I  should  at  once 
retire  from  the  field.  The  people  of  Navesota  and 
Bryan  City  can  testify  to  the  truth  of  my  present 
assertion. 

In  recapitulating  my  ministerial  life  of  forty-five 
years,  I  wish  here  devoutly  to  record  the  goodness  of  a 
special  Providence  in  prolonging  my  days  to  the  com- 
mencement of  my  sixty-seventh  year,  preserving  me 
amid  sickness,  amid  epidemics,  amid  war,  blessing  me 
with  a  faithful  and  loving  wife,  and  ten  grown  and 
affectionate  children.  Though  I  have  had  the  yellow 
fever  more  than  oncej  yet  I  have  never  been  seriously 
interrupted  in  my  profession  by  any  dangerous  or  pro- 
tracted sickness.  I  have  never  lost  the  confidence  and 
esteem  of  any  community  in  which  I  have  lived.  I 
served  the  church  of  Baton  Rouge  for  three  years ;  the 
College  of  Louisiana,  three  years;  theVicksbnrg  Church, 
six  years;  Oakland  College,  twelve  years;  Covington, 
three  years ;  New  Orleans,  three  years ;  and  Houston, 
fifteen  years.  I  have  married  three  hundred  couples, 
and  received  in  marriage  fees  four  thousand  three  hun- 
dred dollars. 


PRESBYTERIANISM  IN  THE  SOUTHWEST. 

ORIGIJS"   OF   OAKLAND  COLLEGE  — MURDER  OF  PRESIDENT 
CHAMBERLAIN. 

Oakland  College  is  located  in  Claiborne  County 
(Mississippi),  thirty-five  miles  north  of  the  city  of 
Natchez,  and  five  miles  east  of  the  Mississippi  River. 
Rodney  is  the  nearest  landing.  Bruinsburg,  three  miles 
north,  is  the  spot  where  General  Grant  crossed  the 
river  and  gained  possession  of  the  rear  of  the  city  of 
Vicksbnrg,  and  soon  that  city  fell.  Oakland  is  situated 
in  a  region  of  country  rendered  interesting  from  many 
reminiscences  of  early  times.  Here  was  the  scene  of 
some  characteristic  incidents  in  the  life  of  General 
Andrew  Jackson.  A  few  miles  from  the  college  was 
the  residence  of  Blennerhassett.  HerQ  was  the  place  of 
the  capture  of  Aaron  Burr.  In  this  vicinity  was  the 
plantation  of  the  amiable,  patriotic,  and  lamented  Gen- 
eral Zachary  Taylor.  This-  region  also  derives  much 
interest  from  the  visits  and  labors  of  some  of  the  earliest 
pioneers  of  Presbyterianism  in  the  Southwest.  Rickhow, 
and  Smylie,  and  Montgomery — the  last  lately  gone  to 
his  reward  after  a  long  life  of  labor  in  the  Master's 
vineyard,  the  two  former  still  living  at  an  advanced 
age — here  came,  when  the  dew  of  their  youth  was  upon 
them,  and  laid  the  foundation  of  our  churches.  Here 
visited  and  preached  Schermerhorn,  and  S.  J.  Mills,  and 
Larned,  and  Bullen,  and  many  others  whose  praise  is 
in  our  Southern  Zion.  The  eccentric  Lorenzo  Dow 
here  rode  his  mule  and  blew  his  horn,  and  attracted 


22  PRESBYTERIANISM   IN   THE   SOUTHWEST. 

crowds  of  the  first  settlers,  preaching  on  housetops  and 
haystacks,  resembling  Peter  the  Hermit,  who  once  mar- 
shalled all  Europe  under  the  Crusader's  banner. 

The  origin  of  Oakland  College  may  be  traced  to  a 
meeting  of  Presbyterian  ministers,  held  in  the  town  of 
Baton  Rouge,  Louisiana,  in  April,  1829.  Some  circum- 
stances had  occurred  previous  to  this  meeting  which 
had  particularly  attracted  the  attention  of  Presbyterians 
to  the  subject  of  Southern  education.  There  was  not, 
at  that  time,  a  single  college,  prepared  to  give  a  regular 
collegiate  education,  w^ithin  the  States  of  Louisiana, 
Mississippi,  and  the  territory  of  Arkansas — containing 
a  population  at  that  time  of  more  than  three  hundred 
thousand  souls,  and  a  tract  of  country  of  more  than  one 
hundred  and  forty-five  thousand  square  miles,  embrac- 
ing the  growing  city  of  New  Orleans  and  other  cities — 
with  a  soil  capable  of  sustaining  a  vast  population. 
Efforts  had  been  made  by  the  Legislature  of  Tjouisiana, 
with  princely  liberality,  to  establish  several  institutions 
of  learning,  all  of  which  had  virtually  failed.  In  the 
State  of  Mississippi  exertions  had  been  made  for  nearly 
thirty  years,  and  large  donations  from  the  general  gov- 
ernment, and  from  corporations  and  individuals,  had 
been  expended ;  and  yet  not  one  individual  was  known 
to  have  been  graduated.  The  religious  community  had 
done  nothing. 

After  viewing  these  facts,  and  having  a  full  inter- 
change of  sentiments,  the  clergymen  above  referred  to 
concluded  that  they  would  fail  in  their  duty,  and  forfeit 
the  character  of  their  Church,  as  the  great  champion  of 
learning,  if  they  did  not  make  an  efibrt  to  meet  the 
claims  of  the  country,  and  provide  means  for  a  thorough 
Southern  education.  A  committee  was  accordingly 
appointed  who,  after  an  extensive  correspondence,  con- 
tinued through  several  months,  called  a  meeting  of  the 


PRESBYTERIANISM   IN  THE   SOUTHWEST.  23 

friends  of  education  at  Bethel  Church,  two  miles  from 
the  present  location  of  the  college,  on  tlie  14th  of  Janu- 
ary, 1830.  This  meeting  was  composed  of  gentlemen 
from  tlie  parishes  of  East  Baton  Rouge,  East  Feliciana, 
and  West  Feliciana,  Louisiana;  and  from  the  counties 
of  Claiborne,  Amite,  "Wilkinson,  Adams,  Jefferson,  War- 
ren, Hinds,  and  Madison,  in  Mississippi,  and  continued 
six  days.     The  following  resolution  was  presented: 

Resolved,  That  it  is  expedient  to  establish  and  endow  an  insti- 
tution of  -learning  within  our  bounds,  which,  when  complete, 
shall  embrace  the  usual  branches  of  science  and  literature  taught 
in  the  colleges  of  our  country,  together  with  a  preparatory  Eng- 
lish and  Grammar  School,  and  Theological  Professorship,  or 
Seminary. 

This  resolution  was  sustained  by  gentlemen  from 
every  part  of  the  country  represented  in  the  meeting ; 
and  after  considering  it  for  three  days,  it  was  unani- 
mously adopted.  A  subscription  was  immediately 
opened  to  supply  the  requisite  funds.  Twelve  thousand 
dollars  were  contributed  for  the  purchase  of  a  site  and 
the  erection  of  necessary  buildings.  Committees  were 
appointed  to  prepare  a  constitution,  to  view  the  various 
locations  which  had  been  spoken  of,  and  to  make  all 
necessary  arrangements  for  opening  the  school. 

The  Presbytery  of  Mississippi,  embracing,  at  that 
time,  all  the  Presbyterian  ministers  in  Louisiana,  Mis- 
sissippi, and  Arkansas,  received  the  proposed  seminary 
under  its  care,  adopted  a  constitution,  appointed  a  Board 
of  Trustees  and  the  President  of  the  college,  and  fixed 
the  location  within  three  miles  of  Bethel  Church,  in 
Claiborne  County,  Mississippi.  On  the  l-4th  of  May 
the  school  opened  with  three  pupils,  who  had  accom- 
panied the  President,  the  Rev.  Jeremiah  Chamberlain, 
D.D.,  from  Jackson,  Louisiana,  where  he  had  been  pre- 
siding for  some  time  over  the  "  College  of  Louisiana." 


24  PEESBYTERIANISM   IN  THE  SOUTHWEST. 

On  tlie  2d  of  July,  1830,  the  first  clearing  was  begun  on 
the  magnificent  Oak  Eidge,  now  occupied  by  the  college 
buildings.  At  the  end  of  the  session,  March  28th,  the 
school  consisted  of  sixty-five  pupils.  The  two  more  ad- 
vanced formed  a  sophomore  class,  and  there  were  five  in 
the  freshman  class ;  the  remainder  were  in  the  English 
and  classical  schools.  The  President  instructed  the 
two  college  classes  and  the  classical  school  in  the  lan- 
guages; and  his  brother,  Mr.  John  Chamberlain,  after- 
wards professor  of  chemistry  and  natural  philosophy, 
instructed  the  classes  in  mathematics  and  in  the  Eng- 
lish school.  In  the  winter  of  1831,  a  charter  was  received 
from  the  legislature  of  the  State.  In  1833,  the  first 
commencement  was  held;  and  Mr.  James  M.  Smylie, 
recent  Vice-Chancellor  of  the  State  of  Mississippi,  was 
the  first  graduate  of  Oakland  College.  His  classmate, 
William  Montgomery,  son  of  Rev.  William  Montgomery, 
one  of  our  oldest  ministers,  who  expected  to  receive  his 
degree  at  the  same  time,  was  removed  by  death  about 
three  weeks  before  the  commencement.  This  is  believed 
to  be  the  first  commencement  south  of  Tennessee,  and 
Judge  Siiiylie  is  the  first  native  Mississippian  who  re- 
ceived the  degree  of  A.  B.  in  his  own  State. 

Such  was  the  origin  of  Oakland  College,  an  institu- 
tion which  has  aided  in  the  education  of  nearly  one 
thousand  native  youth,  and  which  now  has  on  the  roll 
of  its  graduates  one  hundred  and  twenty  alumni,  who 
are  scattered  throughout  the  Southwest,  and  occupied 
in  the  cultivation  of  the  soil  or  in  the  learned  profes- 
sions. And  the  writer  believes  that  there  is  not  on  the 
list  of  the  graduates  of  Oakland  College  a  single  name 
upon  which  rests  a  blemish  of  dishonor  or  immorality. 
And  the  large  number  of  those  educated  young  men 
who  assemble  annually  in  the  groves  and  halls  of  their 
alma  mater,  is  a  pleasing  token  of  their  interest  and 


PRESBYTERLVNISM   IN  THE   SOUTHTVEST.  2o 

affection,  and  a  guarantee  of  what  the  institution  may 
hereafter  expect  from  the  influence  and  character  of  her 
own  sons. 

The  necessary  buildings  and  accommodations  for 
students  and  teachers  have  been  provided  as  the  wants 
of  the  institution  have  required.  There  are,  at  this 
time,  about  thirty  cottages  for  the  occupancy  of  the 
pupils  ;  residences  for  the  President  and  professors;  two 
handsome  halls  for  the  literary  societies,  with  libraries 
attached;  a  college  library  of  upwards  of  four  thousand 
volumes;  a  philosophical,  chemical,  and  astronomical 
apparatus,  which  cost  nearly  $4,000 ;  a  main  college  of 
brick,  one  hundred  and  twelve  by  sixty,  containing  a 
college  chapel,  prayer  hall,  lecture  rooms,  and  other 
requisite  accommodations.  The  institution  has  never 
received  any  aid  from  the  State  or  general  government. 
Its  funds  have  been  provided  entirely  from  private 
liberality.  And  these  funds  would  now  be  sufficient  to 
sustain  the  college,  were  it  not  for  some  unfortunate 
investments  a  few  years  since  in  the  banks  of  the  State. 

We  shall  conclude  this  brief  history  of  Oakland  Col- 
lege, by  stating  a  recent  occurrence,  which,  at  the  time, 
cast  a  deep  gloom  over  the  institution,  and  filled  the 
whole  land  with  astonishment  and  grief.  The  President 
and  professors  had  been  performing  their  quiet  and 
laborious  duties,  unconscious  of  being  the  objects  of 
any  great  amount  of  popular  dislike  or  favor,  when, 
during  the  pendency  of  the  election  in  the  State  of  Mis- 
sissippi, in  the  summer  of  1851,  for  members  to  the 
State  Convention,  the  faculty  were  accused  by  indi- 
viduals, and  by  some  of  the  State  Eights  papers,  of 
giving  in  their  teachings  undue  favor  to  the  sentiments 
of  the  Union  Party.  These  clamors  gained  ground, 
until,  during  the  election  in  September,  handbills  were 
circulated  directly  charging  the  faculty  with  highly 
2 


26  PRESBYTEKIANISM  IN  THE  SOUTHWEST. 

improper  conduct  in  this  respect.  These  charges  were 
mildly  but  firmly  repelled  in  a  card  signed  by  the  Presi- 
dent of  the  college.  The  leaders  of  the  two  parties  were 
General  H.  S.  Foot  and  Jefferson  Davis.  A  citizen  of  the 
neighborhood,  who  had  no  connection  with  the  college, 
either  as  a  student  or  in  any  other  respect,  but  who 
deemed  himself  either  personally  or  politically  implicated 
in  the  denial  of  the  President,  stopped  at  Dr.  Chamber- 
lain's house,  on  the  evening  of  the  5th  of  September  (at  a 
time  when  the  professors  and  students  were  absent  enjoy- 
ing the  vacation),  and  called  the  doctor  to  his  gate..  Ee- 
taining  his  seat  in  his  vehicle,  he  commenced  denounc- 
ing the  doctor  in  very  abusive  terms,  and  made  some 
charge  against  him,  the  nature  of  which  was  not  dis- 
tinctly heard.  Dr.  Chamberlain,  quietly  leaning  upon  the 
top  rail  of  his  gate  on  the  inside,  denied  the  charge,  and 
said  that  it  could  not  be  proved.  Instantly  the  assail- 
ant sprang  from  his  carriage,  and  knocked  the  doctor 
down  with  the  butt-end  of  a  loaded  whip.  As  the 
doctor  rose,  or  attempted  to  rise,  he  was  knocked  down 
again ;  and  as  he  attempted  to  rise  the  second  time,  he 
was  stabbed  to  the  heart  with  a  bowie-knife.  All  this 
took  place  in  the  presence  of  the  female  members  of  the 
family,  wbose  screams  were  heard  at  a  distance,  and 
brought  the  doctor's  son-in-law  to  the  spot.  He  found 
the  doctor  standing  up,  but  bleeding,  and  the  murderer, 
outside  of  the  gate,  wiping  his  bloody  knife  upon  his 
handkerchief.  The  doctor  had  strength  to  walk  to  the 
house,  but,  on  reaching  the  middle  of  the  open  passage, 
lie  exclaimed,  "  I  am  killed ; "  and,  sinking  on  the  floor, 
he  immediately  expired. 

Thus  fell  a  great  and  good  man.  Conciliatory  in  all 
his  intercourse,  bland  and  courteous  in  his  manners, 
even  when  smarting  under  unmerited  obloquy,  but 
brave  and  firm  as  a  martyr  for  principle,  and  ready  to 


PKESBYTEEIANISM  IN  THE   SOUTHWEST.  27 

stand  in  his  lot  for  the  cause  of  truth  and  right,  at  all 
times  and  against  any  odds,  he  at  last  fell  to  appease 
the  bitterness  of  partisan  malice  and  personal  hate. 
For  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century  he  devoted  him- 
self, with  a  zeal,  a  self-abnegation,  and  a  success  un- 
paralleled, to  the  cause  of  Southern  education.  Mainly 
by  his  efforts  and  sacrifices,  a  college  has  been  founded 
in  Mississippi  which  has  educated  and  graduated  more 
young  men  than  all  other  colleges  south  of  Tennessee. 
And  after  all  the  labors,  the  trials,  and  the  temptations 
of  his  long  career,  he  has  left  the  memory  of  no  one 
act  which  his  bitterest  enemy  will  now  venture  to 
censure. 

We  would  here  simply  remark  that  a  coroner's  jury, 
consisting  of  fourteen  citizens,  i)ronounced  the  act  by 
which  Dr.  Chamberlain  came  to  his  death,  murder. 
The  perpetrator  of  the  crime,  on  the  second  day  after 
the  deed,  committed  suicide,  and  passed  beyond  the 
reach  of  all  human  tribunals. 

Although  President  Chamberlain  thus  fell,  so  cruelly, 
so  suddenly,  yet  Oakland  College  did  not  fall  with  him. 
It  still  lives,  and  shall  live,  a  monument  of  his  fame, 
and  a  blessing  to  the  present  and  future  generations. 
And  as  it  is  the  ordainment  of  heaven  that  martyr 
blood  becomes  precious  seed,  whence  springs  nn dying 
truth,  we  doubt  not  that  the  great  principle,  in  this 
instance  as  in  others,  will  be  fully  developed.  No 
sooner  was  Oakland's  chief  founder  and  first  President 
cut  down,  than  the  true  and  firm  friends  of  the  insti- 
tution began  to  rally.  Precisely  one  year  has  elapsed 
since  the  sad  event  occurred;  and  in  that  year  much 
has  been  done  to  place  the  college  upon  a  firm  and  per- 
manent basis.  Upwards  of  $60,000  have  been  con- 
tributed to  pay  its  debts,  and  meet  its  more  immediate 
wants.     The  name  of  its  first  President  is  to  be  per- 


28  PKESBYTERIANISM  IN  THE  SOUTHWEST. 

petuated,  by  the  investment  of  a  permanent  fund,  to  be 
called  the  "  Chamberlain  Fund,"  the  interest  of  which 
is  to  pay  the  salary  of  his  successor.  Overtures  have 
been  made  from  a  distant  source  to  found  a  professor- 
ship of  Natural  Science ;  and  from  various  other  sources 
are  cheering  indications  that  this  infant  seat  of  learning, 
which  has  struggled  so  long  and  done  so  much,  will  yet 
become  the  glory  of  the  South,  and  a  rich  blessing  to 
the  future  generations. 

The  present  faculty  are:  Rev.  E.  L.  Stanton,  D.D., 
President,  and  Professor  of  Moral  Sciences ;  Rev. •J.  R. 
Hutchison,  D.D.,  Professor  of  Latin,  Greek,  and  He- 
brew Languages  J  T.  Newton  Wilson,  A.M.,  Professor 
of  Mathematics;  W.  Le  Roy  Brown,  A.M.,  Professor  of 
Chemistry  and  Natural  Philosophy ;  H.  B.  Underhill, 
A.M.,  Principal  of  the  Preparatory  Department ;  James 
Collier,  Esq.,  Steward. 

September  6,  1853. 


HISTORY 

OF  TUB 

CHURCH  OF  BETHEL   AND  RODNEY, 

(NEAR  OAKLAND   COLXKGE,   MISS.)- 


In*  the  year  1838  tlie  Legislature  of  Mississippi 
granted  a  charter  to  that  portion  of  Bethel  Congrega- 
tion now  worshiping  in  Rodney,  under  the  name  of 
the  "Presbyterian  Congregation  of  Petit  Gulf,"  and 
designated  David  Hunt,  John  H.  Savage,  John  Watt, 
and  James  Couden  as  trustees,  with  the  power  of  ap- 
pointing their  successors.  At  the  same  time  and  in  the 
same  act,  the  Legislature  granted  a  charter  to  that  por- 
tion of  the  congregation  worshiping  at  Bethel,  two 
miles  from  the  college,  under  the  style  and  name  of  the 
"Presbyterian  Congregation  of  Bethel,"  and  named 
William  Young,  Lewellin  Price,  John  Magruder,  and 
Smith  C.  Daniel  trustees  of  the  same,  with  similar  pow- 
er of  electing  their  successors.  The  first  building  for 
public  worship  erected  by  this  double  congregation  was 
located  in  the  rear  of  the  plantations  of  the  late  Smith 
Hubbard  and  James  M.  Batchelor,  about  three  miles 
east  of  the  town  of  Rodney.  The  prominent  actors  in 
this  new  enterprise  were  Daniel  Hunt,  John  Bolls,  Smith 
Hubbard,  Dr.  Rush  Nutt,  John  Murdock,  Sen.,  M.  Mc- 
Clutchy,  and  also  Matthew  Bolls.  The  last  named  was 
the  son  of  John  Bolls,  who  was  a  man  distinguished  in 
the  early  annals  of  the  church  in  this  region,  and  whose 
name  appears  on  several  church  books — a  man  who, 
though  little  in  stature,  was  mighty  in  faith,  swift  of 


30  HISTORY  OF 

foot,  great  at  a  bear-hunt  or  in  taming  wild  steers,  the 
fii'st  to  hear  of  a  new  preacher  coming  to  the  settlement 
and  ride  thirty  miles  to  see  him ;  mighty  in  cutting 
down  trees  to  build  meeting-houses,  and  who  had  the 
honor  of  being  imprisoned  in  the  calaboose  in  l^atchez 
for  being  a  heretic,  having  been  betrayed  to  the  priest 
by  a  stranger  whom  he  had  sheltered  and  nursed  in 
sickness.  His  son  Matthew  was  as  large  again  as  his 
father,  tall  and  gaunt,' a  wit  and  a  poet,  whose  quaint 
sayings,  famous  "  book  of  chronicles,"  and  imitations  of 
Burns'  poems  convulsed  many  a  circle  with  laughter. 
Eorty  years  ago,  he  had  much  to  say  about  early  times 
— how  he  soon  outgrew  his  father,  but  still  dared  not 
disobey  him — how  he  never  regularly  wore  shoes  and 
stockings  until  after  he  was  married — how,  for  the  want 
of  saddles  and  bridles,  he  and  his  companions  would 
seize  wild  horses,  noose  them  with  grape-vines,  and  ride 
furiously  to  merry-makings.  He  knew  something  by 
experience  of  the  toilsome  mode  of  removing  cotton 
from  the  cotton-seed,  before  the  introduction  of  the  cot- 
ton-gin. Then  every  little  boy  and  girl,  white  and 
black,  had  to  bend  themselves  to  the  task,  just  as  in 
picking  wool ;  and  when  a  sufficient  amount  was  pre- 
pared, a  large  barrel,  like  an  empty  tobacco  hogshead, 
was  filled,  shafts  were  attached  to  each  end,  and  it  was 
trundled  across  hills  and  cane-brakes  to  Selsertown,  to 
be  pressed  into  bags.  Cotton  was  precious  in  those 
days,  bringing  forty  cents  per  pound.  Matthew  Boll's 
account  of  the  first  meeting  to  build  the  church  build- 
ing, of  which  we  are  speaking,  was  characteristic  of  the 
men  and  the  times.  One  thought  that  it  would  come 
to  nothing.  Another,  that  it  would  break  up  the  faces 
down  at  Greenville  and  spoil  their  Sunday  sports. 
Another,  that  it  might  help  to  keep  the  women  and 
children  in  order.     But  all  concluded  to  try  it,  and  each 


THE  CHURCH  OF  BETHEL  AND  RODNEY.      31 

put  clown  a  dollar  to  begin  with.  Noble  effort!  In  that 
little  gathering  were  men  who  learned  from  that  time  to 
give  their  thousands  to  the  cause  of  Christ  and  educa- 
tion. In  a  short  time,  "  the  little  church  down  Hub- 
bard's lane— the  little  church  round  the  corner" — be- 
came inconvenient ;  and  about  1824  efforts  were  made 
to  build  two  houses,  one  at  Bethel  cross-roads,  two  miles 
from  Oakland  College,  and  another  at  Rodney. 

The  first  stated  minister  of  the  church  was  Rev.  Sam- 
uel Hunter,  a  native  of  Ireland,  who  preached  at  differ- 
ent points  in  the  vicinity;  and  about  1826  organized 
"  Bethel  Church,"  an  offshoot  of  the  Old  Bethel,  near 
Fayette,  made  up  of  members  principally  from  the  old 
"Bayou  Pierre  Church,"  which  worshiped  formerly  in 
a  log  building  on  the  road  now  leading  from  Mrs. 
Crane's  residence  to  Port  Gibson,  and  near  the  residence 
of  Mr.  Venable.  The  place  where  the  house  stood  can 
only  now  be  identified  by  a  few  old  trees  and  sunken 
graves.  I  know  the  spot.  As  early  as  1824,  the  old 
Presbytery  of  Mississippi  met  in  session  there.  There 
were  Rickhow,  and  Montgomery,  and  Patterson,  and 
Chase,  and  others.  A  young  man  from  New  England 
offered  himself  as  a  candidate  for  the  ministry,  was  li- 
censed (the  first  licensure  ever  witnessed  by  the  people), 
and  after  laboring  a  short  time  at  St.  Francisville  and 
Baton  Rouge,  returned  to  his  home,  and  within  two 
years  past  has  ceased  from  his  labors.  He  was  the  Rca'. 
Thomas  Savage,  late  of  Londonderry  Presbytery.  A 
later  incident  connected  with  this  lonely  spot  is  familiar 
from  personal  presence.  Nearly  twenty  years  ago,  two 
horsemen,  on  a  sultry  day,  turned  aside  at  these  old 
graves  to  repose  beneath  the  shade,  and  have  time  to  get 
to  Oakland  at  sundown.  Plucking  some  wild  grapes 
from  overhead,  they  stretched  themselves  on  the  grass 
to  rest  and  talk.     Being  both  given  to  being  merry  and 


r>J      "  HISTORY   OF 

sad  as  occasion  offered,  the  time  and  the  place  gave  food 
to  both  extremes  of  temperament.  They  talked  about 
the  past,  the  present,  and  the  future.  They  then  arose 
and  departed.  One  remains  until  this  day  to  record  the 
past.  The  other  (three  days  after)  fell  by  the  hand  of 
an  assassin !     (See  History  of  Oakland  College.) 

The  original  members  composing  the  "  Bayou  Pierre 
Church/'  and  then  incorporated  into  Bethel  Church, 
were  John  Bolls,  elder  (noble  old  man,  with  a  little 
body  but  a  big  soul,  and  who  loaned  himself  about 
among  the  churches  as  an  elder  until  other  elders  arose), 
Mrs.  Catherine  Crane,  Lewellin  Price  (grandfather  of 
Rev.  Robert  Price),  William  Young,  Clara  Young,  Dr. 
Rush  Nutt,  Mrs.  Nutt,  Mrs.  Elisa  Kerr,  David  Hunt, 
Mrs.  Ann  F.  Hunt,  and  others.  Early  in  the  spring  of 
1828,  Mr.  Hunter  retired  from  the  care  of  Bethel  and 
Rodney  churches,  and  the  Rev.  Zebulon  Butler  took 
charge  of  the  congregation  in  conjunction  Avith  the 
church  of  Port  Gibson,  for  one  year.  In  November, 
the  Rev.  J.  R.  Hutchison  came  from  Princeton  Theo- 
logical Seminary,  and  preached  at  Rodney  as  stated  sup-- 
ply  until  the  following  July,  when  he  removed  to  Baton 
Rouge  and  succeeded  Rev.  John  Dorrance,  who  returned 
to  Pennsylvania.  While  J.  R.  Hutchison  preached  at 
Rodney,  there  Avere  but  two  members  of  the  Presbyterian 
Church  residing  in  the  place,  although  the  village  con- 
tained a  larger  population  than  at  present.  Yet  almost 
all  the  heads  of  families  in  the  town  formed  themselves 
mto  a  Bible  Class  and  were  instructed  weekly  in  the 
Holy  Scriptures.  The  first  place  used  for  public  worship 
was  the  bar-room  of  a  house  of  entertainment.  On 
Sabbath  morning  the  landlord  would  ring  the  dinner- 
bell,  wipe  the  stains  of  decanters  and  bottles  from  the 
table,  bring  out  an  old  Bible,  and  the  people  would  come 
in.     Some  objected  to  the  preacher  because  he  was  too 


THE  CHURCH  OF  BETHEL  .VXD  RODNEY.      33 

young;  but  ^[attliew  Bolls,  the  great  oracle,  thought 
that  "if  they  would  give  the  youug  man  a  little  time, 
he  would  get  over  that  defect."  The  young  man  lias 
long  since  got  over  tliat  fault.  The  writer  has  now  lost 
his  raven  locks,  has  put  on  gray  hairs,  and  is  old  enough. 

Early  in  1829  steps  were  taken  to  erect  the  j)resent 
brick  church  at  Rodney.  It  was  dedicated  to  the  wor- 
ship of  God  on  the  first  day  of  January,  1832,  by  the 
preacliing  of  a  sermon  by  Rev.  I)r.  Chamberlain  from 
Exodus  XX.  24 :  "  In  all  places  where  I  record  my  name, 
I  will  come  unto  thee  and  I  will  bless  thee."  After  the 
house  was  finished,  it  appeared  that  the  builder  still  held 
a  claim  against  it  of  81,500 — which  debt  was  quietly 
paid  by  Mr.  David  Hunt,  a  princely  man,  and  the  build- 
ing released  from  all  embarrassments. 

Early  in  the  spring  of  1830  a  new  element  of  life 
and  vigor  was  introduced  into  this  church,  by  the  loca- 
tion of  Oakland  College  within  its  bounds,  towards 
which  the  members  of  the  congregation  subscribed 
$12,000.  Afterwards  the  same  individuals  multiplied 
their  donations  to  the  amount  of  tens  of  thousands. 
The  reason  why  the  college  was  located  in  so  retired  a 
spot,  was  this:  at  that  time  no  toivn  or  city  in  the  South- 
west was  deemed  siifficiently  healthy  or  sufficiently  moral 
to  be  the  seat  of  a  college.  In  addition  to  his  position  as 
president.  Dr.  Chamberlain  preached  at  Rodney  and 
Bethel  alternately  for  seven  years.  During  that  time, 
in  addition  to  the  support  of  their  preacher,  the  people 
contributed  to  the  different  boards  of  the  church  about 
$1,000  annually.  On  the  11th  of  November,  1837,  the 
Rev.  J.  T.  Russell  was  installed  pastor,  and  resigned  in 
1842.  For  the  twelve  next  succeeding  years,  Rev.  J.  R. 
Hutchison,  having  removed  from  Vicksburg,  acted  in 
the  capacity  of  both  professor  of  ancient  languages  and 
pastor  of  the  church.     During  those  years  the  cougre- 


34    HISTORY  OF  THE  CHURCH  OF  BETHEL  AND  RODNEY. 

gation  in  its  spiritual  aspects  assumed  many  interesting 
features.  In  1837,  about  twenty  were  added  to  the 
church,  principally  young  men  connected  with  the  col- 
lege. In  1845,  about  fifty  persons  were  added  to  the 
communion.  During  the  long  term  of  thirty  years,  the 
congregation  contributed  largely  to  the  boards  of  the 
church — to  the  Tract  cause,  the  Bible  Society,  Sunday- 
school  Union.  Tlie  American  Colonization  Society  al- 
ways was  a  favorite,  and  sometimes  received  from  indi- 
viduals contributions  amounting  to  thousands  of  dol- 
lars. For  many  years,  a  few  noble  planters  supported  a 
minister  to  labor  exclusively  among  their  slaves.  At 
one  time,  forty  negroes,  valued  at  $330,000,  were  liberated 
and  sent  to  Liberia.  An  individual  (Thomas  Freeland) 
contributed,  from  1833  to  1843,  $333  annually,  to  sup- 
port a  missionary  in  China.  The  students  in  the  college 
gave  about  $300  for  the  boards  of  the  church.  Besides, 
the  Theological  Seminary  at  Maryville  (Tennessee),  the 
Natchez  Orphan  Asylum,  etc.,  received  large  contribu- 
tions.    0  !  those  were  palmy  days,  gone,  never  to  return. 

HousTOF  Texas,  August  28, 1871. 


PHYSICAL   SCIENCE. 

An  Address  delivered  at  Oakland  College,  on  the  occasion  of  the  Inauguration 
of  Dr.  J.  II.  Savage,  as  Professor  of  Chemistry,  August,  1&42. 


Oentlemen  of  the  Board  of  Trustees  and  Faculty  : 

All  attentive  students  of  history  have  remarked  that 
great  men  and  great  events  have  generally  appeared  in 
clusters.  When  one  individual  of  vast  enterprise  or 
learning  has  attracted  the  gaze  and  admiration  of  the 
world,  others,  remarkable  for  similar  qualities,  have 
arisen  almost  simultaneously  with  him.  When  great 
inventions  and  discoveries  have  dawned  upon  the  earth, 
others  of  a  kindred  character  have  sprung  up  around 
them. 
What  is  the  philosophy  of  this  historic  truth  ? 
How  do  we  account  for  it  ?  By  the  following  simple 
process : — That  waking  up  and  inquisitiveness  of  the 
human  intellect,  which  results  in  the  discovery  of  some 
new  principle,  or  the  development  of  some  new  and 
startling  invention,  impel  it  forward  in  a  new  career, 
— a  career  of  universal  investigation;  and  speedily 
other  discoveries  and  inventions  open  before  it,  and  re- 
ward its  newly-awakened  energies.  In  addition  to 
this,  all  truth  is  intimately  affiliated  and  interwoven, 
and  any  change  in  one  of  her  departments,  speedily 
extends  its  influence  to  every  other,  and,  ere  long,  all 
things  become  neic.  But  the  chief  cause  why  great 
events  and  discoveries  have  so  often  appealed  simulta- 
neously has  been,  that  witliout  such  simultaneous  ap- 
pearance they  would  have  been  of  no  great  benefit  to 


36  PHYSICAL  SCIENCE. 

the  world.  Providence  seems  somefcimes  designedly  to 
have  held  lack  the  mind  of  man  from  the  perception  of 
certain  great  principles  because  the  world  loas  not  ready 
for  them  ;  their  time  had  not  yet  come.  What  worthy 
advantage  could  have  resulted  from  the  discovery  of  the 
a}'t  of  printing,  had  not  mankind  about  the  same  time 
begun  to  call  in  question  the  old  and  time-hallowed 
dogma  that  none  but  kings  and  priests  should  possess 
power  and  learning — that  it  was  a  sin  against  God  for 
the  common  people  to  investigate  political  and  theolog- 
ical opinions.  Hence,  the  discoveries  of  Johannes 
Faust  and  Martin  Luther  appeared  in  close  proximity 
— the  one  standing  ready  to  aid  the  other — the  power 
of  the  Press  to  advance  and  perpetuate  the  power  of 
the  unshackled  mind. 

This  simultaneous  appearance  of  great  events  and 
their  adaptation  the  one  to  the  other,  was  most  strik- 
ingly displayed  in  the  discovery  of  America,  and  those 
other  astonishing  discoveries  and  inventions  which 
appeared  at  the  same  time. 

About  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century,  that  deep 
night  of  intellectual  and  moral  darkness  which  had 
brooded  over  the  earth  for  a  thousand  years  began  to 
break  away,  and  the  day  began  to  dawn.  Suddenly, 
as  by  a  common  impulse,  Europe  became  the  theater  of 
great  and  marvelous  events : — the  invention  of  the 
mariner's  compass — the  use  of  gunpowder — the  art  of 
printing — the  commencement  of  the  glorious  reforma- 
tion,— and  the  discovery  of  a  new  continent  beyond  the 
vast  Atlantic!  These  and  a  thousand  other  magnificent 
discoveries  thronged  upon  eacli  other  with  pressing 
haste ;  when  with  a  steady  and  triumphant  step  the 
peerless  form  of  human  intellect  arose  erect,  and  throw- 
ing off  from  her  freshening  limbs  the  death-shade  and 
the  grave  dothes  which  had  so  long  enshrouded  her. 


PHYSICAL  SCIENCE.  37 

ascended  to  the  glorious  resurrection  of  that  noontide 
luster  which  irradiates  the  horizon  of  our  own  day, 
"  rejoicing  like  a  strong  man  to  run  a  race." 

Now  some  of  these  events  paved  the  wa}^  for  others 
— some  were  rendered  useful  solely  from  the  previous 
existence  of  others,  and  all  exerted  upon  each  a  re- 
ciprocal effect. 

Among  the  fruits  of  this  new  order  of  things — of 
these  new  developments  of  mind — of  this  fresh  impulse 
to  the  spirit  of  universal  investigation,  of  which  that 
cluster  of  great  events  was  partly  the  cause  and  partly 
the  effect,  we  should  always  give  a  prominent  place 
to  that  department  of  knowledge  called  "  Physical 
Science.'^  For  although  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth 
century  is  generally  marked  as  the  great  era  of  the 
revival  of  religion  and  of  letters,  it  is  no  less  deserving 
of  being  distinguished  as  the  time  in  which  men  began 
to  study,  appreciate,  and  comprehend  the  laws  and 
phenomena  of  the  material  world;  and  it  is  a  remark- 
able historical  fact,  that  at  the  very  time  Martin 
Luther  effected  the  revolution  of  the  theological 
system,  at  Wittenberg,  in  a  city  sixty  miles  to  the 
north,  Nicholas  Copernicus  was  revolutionizing  the 
long-received  system  of  astronomy.  "While  the  one 
taught  that  the  "  Seven-hilled  City  "  was  not  the  center 
of  the  Church,  the  other  demonstrated  that  this  world 
was  not  the  center  of  the  universe:  glorious  coinci- 
dence of  great  events — the  type  and  the  prophecy  of 
the  approaching  emancipation  of  Matter  and  of  Mind  ! 

My  theme  is  the  present  position  and  aspect  of  the 
Physical  Sciences. 

1.  The  Physical  Sciences,  previous  to  the  fifteenth 
century,  were  the  main  agents  and  hand-maids  of 
superstition. 

Instead  of  contributing  to  the  happiness  of  the  race, 


38  PHYSICAL  SCIENCE. 

as  they  were  tlien  understood  and  wielded,  they  were 
the  chief  source  of  human  disquietude  and  suffering. 

The  mass  of  men,  ignorant  of  the  hiws  which  govern 
the  material  world,  and  hence  wholly  incompetent  to 
unravel  their  mysteries  and  explain  their  phenomena, 
became  the  sport  of  every  strange  fact  or  uncommon 
occurrence  which  nature  presented.  The  sudden  ap- 
pearance of  an  eclipse,  or  of  a  comet  with  its  blazing 
tail,  the  coruscations  of  the  Aurora  Borealis,  the  ex- 
plosion of  subterranean  gases,  the  bursting  up  of  vol- 
canic fires,  the  ignis  fatuus,  dancing  over  the  marshy 
meadow  at  nightfall,  have  often  filled  whole  nations 
with  alarm. 

Nor  in  those  cases  where  a  solution  of  these  physical 
facts  was  known  to  a  few  more  gifted  than  their  fellows 
were  the  masses  the  wiser  or  the  better.  For  such 
knowledge  was  hoarded  up  with  jealous  care — became 
the  exclusive  property  of  the  mysterious  alchymist— the 
cunning  priest,  the  ambitious  ruler,  and  was  held  in 
terror  over  the  heads  of  the  multitude. 

And  it  is  a  subject  of  curious  investigation,  to  trace 
out  the  mode  in  which  science  thus  became  an  instru- 
ment in  the  hands  oifhofetu,  to  overawe  and  enslave  the 
many.  And  we  believe  that  history  will  bear  us  out  in 
the  assertion,  that  every  known  branch  of  physical 
science  was  laid  under  contribution  to  sustain  some  one 
species  of  religious  and  political  imposture. 

How  often  did  a  knowledge  of  the  principles  of  As- 
tronomy enable  the  general  on  the  eve  of  battle,  to 
calculate  the  time  of  an  approaching  eclipse,  and  at- 
tacking the  enemy  at  the  moment  darkness  was  spread- 
ing over  the  earth,  decide  the  contest  in  his  own  favor, 
by  appealing  to  this  visible  interposition  of  the  gods. 
Did  not  Archimedes,  by  his  knowledge  of  Mechanics, 
toss  the  Eoman  ships  in  the  air  ?  or  consume  them  with 


PHYSICAL  SCIENCE.  39 

his  burning  lenses,  thus  arming  Syracuse  with  protec- 
tion more  terrible  thtin  a  wall  of  fire  ? 

The  Egyptian  priests,  by  some  secret  art  resembling 
our  modern  mesmerism,  could  charm  the  adder,  and  the 
serpent,  and  thus  rivet  the  chains  of  ghostly  power  upon 
the  necks  of  the  people.  In  a  word,  what  constituted 
the  hidden  mysteries  of  the  ancient  sorcerer,  the  physi- 
cian, the  astrologer  ?  Nothing  but  a  knowledge  of  a 
few  chemical,  astronomical,  or  herbal  secrets,  as  familiar 
now  as  the  letters  of  the  alphabet.  Doubtless  the  secret 
use  which  the  ancients  made  of  their  scientific  discov- 
eries, has  prevented  many  of  their  inventions  from 
reaching  our  day :  as  for  instance,  the  Egyptian  art  of 
embalming,  their  dead,  and  the  erection  of  the  pyra- 
mids. Yet  an  examination  of  most  of  their  famous 
miracles  and  fables  will  show  us  that  their  chief  decep- 
tions had  their  origin  in  physical  science. 

"The  science  of  acoustics  furnished  the  ancient  sor- 
cerers with  some  of  their  best  deceptions.  The  imitation 
of  thunder  in  their  subterranean  temples  could  not  fail 
to  indicate  to  a  superstitious  worshiper,  the  presence  of  a 
supernatural  agent.  The  golden  virgins,  whose  charm- 
ing voices  resounded  through  the  temple  of  Delphos, — 
the  stone  from  the  river  Pactolus,  whose  trumpet  notes 
frightened  the  robber  from  the  treasure  which  it  guarded; 
the  speaking  head  which  uttered  its  oracular  responses 
at  Lesbos  ;  the  vocal  statue  of  Memnon,  which  began  at 
break  of  day  to  accost  the  rising  sun  in  strains  of 
melody;  were  all  deceptions,  derived  from  science,  and 
from  an  imitation  of  the  phenomenona  of  nature." 

The  principles  of  Hydrostatics  were  equally  available 
in  the  work  of  popular  deception.  The  marvelous 
fountain,  which  Pliny  describes,  in  the  island  of  An- 
dres, as  discharging  wine  for  seven  days,  and  water 
during  the  rest  of  the  year ;  the  spring  of  oil,  which 


40  PHYSICAL   SCIENCE. 

broke  out  at  Rome,  to  welcome  the  return  of  Augustus 
from  the  Cicilian  war;  the  empty  urns  which  filled 
themselves  with  wine  at  the  annual  bacchanalian  feasts 
in  the  city  of  Elis ;  the  weeping  statues,  and  the  per- 
petual lamps  in  the  old  Greek  and  Eoman  temples ; 
were  all  the  efiects  of  the  equilibrium  and  pressure  of 
fluids,  known  to  the  initiated,  but  hid  from  the  vulgar. 

The  department  of  Mechanics,  also,  lent  its  aid.  In 
the  Eleusinian  mysteries  of  ancien  Rome,  when  the  un- 
fortunate victim  was  carried  off  by  the  gods,  there  is 
reason  to  believe  that  he  was  hurried  away  by  the  aid 
of  machinery  concealed  in  their  temples. 

When  Appolonius,  conducted  by  the  Indian  sages  to 
the  sanctuary  of  their  deity,  felt  the  earth  rising  and 
sinking  beneath  his  feet,  like  the  agitated  sea,  he  was 
doubtless  placed  upon  a  moving  floor,  made  to  imitate 
the  heaving  of  the  waves. 

The  rapid  descent  of  those  who  consulted  the  oracle 
in  the  cave  of  Trophonius  ;  the  walking  statues  of  An- 
tium;  the  wooden  pigeons  of  Archytas;  yea,  almost 
all  the  pretended  miracles  of  antiquity,  are  specimens  of 
the  mechanical  resources  of  ancient  magic. 

But,  doubtless,  the  science  of  Optics  w^as  the  main  de- 
pendence in  the  ancient  arts  of  deception.  The  power 
of  bringing  remote  objects  apparently  within  the  very 
grasp  of  the  observer,  and  swelling  iuto  gigantic  mag- 
nitude objects  the  most  minute,  never  fails  to  inspire 
with  astonishment  even  those  who  know  something  of 
the  process  by  which  such  marvels  are  accomplished. 
What  then  must  have  been  their  effect  upon  the  minds 
of  the  ignorant?  The  ancients,  indeed,  were  not  ac- 
quainted with  those  combinations  of  lenses  and  mirrors 
which  constitute  the  modern  telescope  and  microscope, 
but  they  possessed  the  power  of  distorting,  inverting, 
and  even  of  igniting   objects   by  means  of  plates  of 


THYSICAL  SCIENCE.  41 

polished  steel ;  and  iii  miiny  of  the  descriptions  of  the 
o[)ticul  displays  wliich  hallowed  their  temples,  we  rec- 
ognize all  the  transformations  of  the  modern  2)ha)itas- 
magoria  (See  Brewster's  Letters). 

Now,  when  we  contemplate  these  facts,  how  wonder- 
ful the  change  in  the  aspect  and  use  of  the  physical 
sciences !  How  has  the  right  arm  of  superstition  heen 
broken  ?  How  has  the  giant  been  shorn  of  his  strength 
and  laid  harmless  at  our  feet?  and  man  can  now  walk 
abroad,  and  gaze  upon  nature  in  all  her  external  dis- 
jdays  or  hidden  wonders,  unawed,  unterrified. 

2.  Another  new  aspect  which  the  physical  sciences 
have  assumed,  and  in  which  they  differ  from  what  they 
were  in  former  ages,  is  their  diffusion.  Once  they  well 
deserved  the  name  of  Occult  Sciences ;  for  they  were 
secrets  known  only  to  i\\Q  fciu — sacred  mysteries  veiled 
from  the  vulgar.  They  were  like  light  upon  the  moun- 
tain top,  while  the  valleys  were  wrapped  in  darkness — 
fountains  in  high  places,  whose  streams  sent  down  a 
penurious  supply  to  the  plains  below. 

The  custom,  ever  since  the  revival  of  learning,  of 
writing  all  scientific  works  in  the  Latin  language  (a 
language  unknown  to  the  people) ;  the  scarcity  and 
high  price  of  books;  the  want  of  philosophical  instru- 
ments, in  connection  with  the  warlike  habits  of  the 
world — all  conspired  to  render  science,  for  many  ages, 
a  7nonopoli/,  and  confined  it  to  the  call  of  the  monk,  and 
the  dusty  garret  of  the  alchymist.  But  now  the  spell  is 
dissolved.  Nature  has  thrown  wide  her  doors,  has  re- 
vealed her  hidden  wonders,  and  all  men  are  invited  to 
enter  and  worship  at  her  shrine. 

The  physical  sciences  received  their  first  great  im- 
pulse from  the  art  of  printing,  fostered  by  the  universal 
inquisitiveness  and  adventurous  spirit  which  that  art 
created.     Next  came  the  labors  of  Lord  Bacon  (the 


42  PHYSICAL  SCIENCE. 

greatest  genius,  in  many  respects,  which  Enghind  ever 
produced),  who  pointed  out  the  only  true  mode  of  phi- 
losophizing. Then  came  the  discoveries  of  Galileo,  Kep- 
ler, and  Newton;  and  finally,  about  the  middle  of  the 
last  century,  there  began  to  issue  from  the  press  a  large 
number  of  popular  works  on  natural  history,  geogra- 
phy, astronomy,  and  experimental  philosophy;  and 
these,  divested  of  the  pedantry  of  former  times,  and  the 
technicalities  of  the  old  philosophy,  began  to  operate  on 
the  mass,  and  transferred  knowledge  from  the  few  to 
the  7na7iy — from  the  pampered  priest  and  feudal  lord, 
to  the  peasant  and  mechanic.  And  thus,  in  process  of 
time,  a  neAv  order  of  things  has  arisen.  A  new  era  in 
the  age  of  the  world  has  dawned.  And  now  the  arts 
and  sciences  are  like  the  light  of  the  sun,  or  the  showers 
that  burst  from  the  clouds,  or  the  broad  surface  ol 
rivers  and  seas;  the  birthright  and  blessing  of  all  men ; 
and,  guided  by  the  light  of  a  few  simple  principles,  mul- 
titudes in  the  humbler  walks  of  life,  who  would  once 
have  been  spurned  as  unworthy  to  set  their  unhallowed 
feet  upon  the  threshold  of  the  temple  of  science,  are 
astonishing  the  world  by  their  inventions  and  dis- 
coveries. Verily  "  many  are  running  to  and  fro,  and 
knowledge  is  increased." 

3.  Another  remarkable  aspect  of  the  physical  sciences, 
and  in  which  they  differ  essentially  from  what  they 
once  were,  is  their  practical  tendency  ;  their  every  day 
utility;  their  adaptedness  to  the  actual  state  of  things  ; 
affording  direct  alleviation  to  the  physical  and  social 
wants  of  man. 

The  age  of  theories  and  day-dreams  is  no  more.  The 
time  when  men  shut  themselves  up,  and  exhausted  both 
mind  and  body  with  learned  trifles,  and  spun  out  fine 
cobwebs  of  the  brain,  of  no  practical  benefit  to  them- 
selves or  others,  has  passed  awny  never  to  return. 


PHYSICAL  SCIENCE.  43 

How  humiliating  to  contemplate  the  follies  of  the 
ancient  school-men;  the  utter  destitution  in  their  most 
profound  disquisitions  of  anything  like  practical  utility. 
Yea,  it  Avould  seem  that  the  greatest  7;Ai7o6-o/;7ier.9  were 
the  greatest  fools^  and  that  the  higher  they  advanced 
in  their  fancied  learning,  the  farther  they  receded  from 
common  sense.  "  Men,'*  says  Lord  Bacon,  "  withdrew 
themselves  from  the  contemplation  of  Nature,  and 
tumbled  up  and  down,  in  their  own  fancies  and  conceits. 
They  sought  truth  in  their  own  little  world,  and  not 
in  the  great  and  common  world  "  around  them. 

Behold  a  conclave  of  grave  fathers  of  the  Church, 
laboring  with  holy  fervor  and  orthodox  zeal,  to  deter- 
mine,— whether  God  can  exist  as  well  in  imaginary 
space  as  in  real  space ;  whether  God  loves  a  non-exist- 
ing angel  more  than  an  existing  insect ;  whether 
angels  can  see  in  the  dark ;  whether  an  angel  can  pass 
from  one  point  of  space  to  another,  without  passing 
through  the  intermediate  space.  Is  it  not  such  "  stuff 
that  dreams  are  made  of  ?  "  Equally  absurd  were  the  trifles 
which  absorbed  the  attention  of  the  student  oi physical 
science.  Look  at  one  toiling  from  youth  to  hoary  age 
to  find  out  the  philosoi:)her's  stone  ;  another,  the  secret 
of  transmuting  all  metals  into  gold;  a  third  is  bent 
upon  the  perpetual  motion ;  a  fourth  tortures  Nature  to 
extract  from  her  a  universal  medicine,  by  which  to  cure 
all  earthly  diseases  and  rejuvenate  the  powers  of  man ; 
while  a  fifth  consults  the  stars  to  foretell  coming  events, 
and  cast  the  horoscope  of  kings. 

"They  could  foretell  whatever  was 
By  consequence  to  come  to  pass — 
As  death  of  great  men,  alterations, 
Diseases,  battles,  inundations ; 
They  would  search  a  planet's  house  to  know 
Who  broke  and  robbed  a  house  below  ; 


4A  PHYSICAL  SCIENCE. 

Examine  Venus  and  the  moon, 

Who  stole  a  thimble  or  a  spoon ; 

They  would  question  Mars,  and,  by  his  looks. 

Detect  who  'twas  that  soiled  your  books  ; 

They'd  feel  the  pulses  of  the  stars. 

To  find  out  agues,  coughs,  catarrhs ; 

And.  all  earth's  mysteries  unriddle, 

As  easily  as  you  can  thread  a  needle." — Hudihras. 

But  now  this  age  of  learned  folly,  of  wise  ignorance, 
of  sublime  nonsense,  has  passed  forever  away,  and  been 
succeeded  by  an  age  oi practical  utility. 

And  now  can  be  realized,  in  some  good  degree,  another 
beautiful  sentiment  of  tlie  great  Lord  Bacon  :  "  Men  no 
longer  seek  in  knowledge  a  couch,  whereon  to  rest  a 
searching  and  restless  spirit;  nor  a  terrace,  for  a  wan- 
dering mind  to  walk  up  and  down,  with  a  fair  prospect; 
nor  a  toioer  of  state,  for  a  fond  mind  to  raise  itself  upon ; 
nor  Si  fort  or  commanding  ground,  for  strife  and  conten- 
tion ;  nor  a  shop,  for  profit  and  sale ;  but  a  rich  store- 
house, for  the  glory  of  the  Creator  and  the  good  of  man's 
estate.'' 

We  set  out  by  attempting  to  account  for  all  the 
strange  facts  and  j^henomena  of  antiquity,  upon  some 
well-known  principle  of  physical  scienge.  We  think 
we  have  explained  a  feiv,  but  there  are  some  which  are 
too  profound  for  our  philosophy.  For  instance,  Mer- 
catus,  physician  to  Philip  11.  of  Spain,  relates  that  he 
actually  saw  a  beautiful  lady  break  a  steel  mirror  to 
pieces,  and  peel  the  bark  off  some  trees,  by  a  single 
glance  of  her  eyes !  Josephus  relates  that  a  certain  Jew, 
named  Eleazer,  in  the  presence  of  the  Emperor  Vespa- 
sian, drew  the  devil  out  of  an  old  woman's  nostrils  by 
the  application  of  Solomon's  seal  to  her  nose!  Good 
old  Dr.  Mynsight  is  said  to  have  cured  several  bewitched 
persons  with  a  plaster  of  assafcetida.     How  the  assa- 


PHYSICAL   SCIENCE.  45 

fcetida  was  efficacious  was  much  disputed  among  the 
learned.  Some  thought  the  devil  might  consider  such 
an  application  to  any  part  an  insult,  and  ran  off  in  a 
passion.  But  others  very  sagely  observed  that,  as  devils 
are  supposed  to  have  eyes  and  ears,  they  doubtless  have 
noses  also,  and  dislike  vile  smells  to  come  between  the 
wind  and  their  olfactories.  But  let  us  drop  this  point, 
lest  we  suffer  in  the  conflict.  It  is  dangerous  to  meddle 
with  devils  and  witches. 

They  Ml  haul  you  o'er  the  coals. 
And  stir  the  fires  of  Phlegethon, 
With  every  mother's  son  ; 
Nor  say  one  single-  mass. 
To  cool  the  caldron's  bubble, 
That  boils  your  bones — 
Unless  you  pay  them  double. 

We  repeat  the  remark,  that  every  branch  of  physical 
science  is  now  cultivated,  primarily,  for  the  sake  of 
utility.  "  Ciii  lono  "  is  the  motto  of  every  philosoplier. 
Behold  Astronomy  taking  up  her  instruments,  and 
making  an  actual  measurement  of  the  magnitude  and 
distances  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  explaining  their  influ- 
ences and  variations,  and  even  measuring  the  comet  in 
its  swift  and  fiery  flight.  The  moon  has  struck  and 
come  under  our  lee,  that  we  may  gaze  upon  her  burning 
mountains.  The  little  star,  which  seems  no  bigger  than 
the  diamond  that  glitters  on  a  lady's  ring,  is  really 
found  to  be  the  center  of  a  magnificent  system,  around 
which  vast  worlds  revolve. 

View  Meteorology^  explaining  the  laws  of  the  clouds, 
and  the  philosophy  of  storms,  for  the  benefit  of  the 
farmer,  tlie  mariner,  and  the  fisherman. 

6^foZo^?/ searches 'amid  primeval  rocks,  and  the  dry 
beds  of  old  oceans,  to  furnish  man  with  a  knowledge  of 
shells  and  soils  and  metals. 


46  PHYSICAL  SCIENCE. 

Natural  History  unfolds,  for  practical  purposes,  the 
properties  and  uses  of  beasts,  insects,  and  birds. 

Botany  takes  man  by  the  hand,  and  leads  him  out 
into  the  green  fields,  to  teach  him  the  uses  of  plants 
and  roots  and  flowers. 

Cheniistry  stands  behind  her  retorts  and  crucibles, 
and  discourses  of  earths  and  alkalies  and  gases,  teaching 
man  how  to  compound  medicines,  prepare  food,  improve 
soils,  burnish  metals,  manufacture  glass,  disinfect  im- 
pure habitations,  and  bleach  and  dye  garments. 

And  what  shall  we  say  of  3Iechanics  ?  Calling  to  her 
aid  a  few  of  the  simple  principles  of  nature  and  art,  and 
pressing  them  into  her  service,  she  has  given  the  world 
the  mariner's  compass,  the  safety-lamp,  the  diving-bell, 
the  air-pump,  the  microscope,  ihe  spinning-jenny,  the 
lightning-rod,  the  magnetic  needle,  the  electric  tele- 
graph.    Such  are  her  rich  gifts  to  man. 

And  what  shall  we  say  of  the  practical  application  of 
science  in  the  wonders  of  Steam  ?  Oh,  this  is  the  lever 
by  which  we  are  moving  the  world.  It  has  armed  the 
feeble  hand  of  man  with  a  power  to  which  no  limits  can 
be  assigned,  completed  the  dominion  of  mind  over  matter, 
and  is  causing  old  things  to  pass  away  and  all  things  to 
become  new.  Men  have  dug  down  mountains  and 
crossed  oceans  by  steam.  The  Birmingham  fire-king 
has  visited  the  fabulous  East,  and  the  genius  of  the 
Cape  has  been  alarmed  at  the  thunders  of  his  voice. 
The  shuttle  drops  from  the  fingers  of  the  weaver,  and 
falls  into  iron  fingers  that  can  move  it  faster.  The 
horse  is  stripped  of  its  harness,  and  finds  a  fleet  fire- 
horse  yoked  in  its  stead.  The  sailor  has  folded  his  sails, 
to  bid  a  strong,  unwearied  servant  to  bear  him  on  vapory 
wings  over  the  waters.  "The  Allegheny  has  bowed 
down  his  back  like  a  camel  to  receive  the  load  of  com- 
merce; and  the  waters  have  gone  over  him,  and  the 


PHYSICAL  SCIENCE.  47 

navies  of  boats  ride  in  triumph  over  his  high  places." 
Nature,  through  all  her  works,  has  surrendered.  The 
victory  of  mind  is  achieved.  Even  distance  has  been 
annihilated,  and,  panic-struck,  has  vanished  from  St. 
Anthony  to  New  Orleans ;  and  the  panic  is  spreading, 
and  distance,  in  all  directions,  is  fleeing  away.  If  such 
are  the  achievements  of  Science  in  her  infancy,  what 
will  she  not  achieve  when  arrived  at  manhood?  when 
other  ISTewtons,  and  Arkwrights,  and  Fultons,  and 
Morses  shall  arise,  with  minds  still  more  brilliantly  illu- 
minated with  the  lights  of  science,  and  the  splendid 
achievements  of  the  present  age  shall  be  far  surpassed 
by  the  future  miracles  of  mechanic  power. 

4.  We  should  be  doing  violence  to  our  own  feelings, 
and  injustice  to  our  subject,  were  we  to  omit  to  point 
out  another  prominent  characteristic  of  physical  science. 
It  is  the  fact  that  it  is  confirmatory  of  revelation.  It  is 
becoming  the  direct  auxiliary  of  Christianity.  And 
every  new  fact  and  development  is  only  adding  to  that 
great  cloud  of  witnesses  which  attest  the  divinity  of  our 
holy  religion.  Once  it  was  not  so.  Once  science  was 
viewed  with  suspicion.  Once  it  was  discountenanced 
because  of  its  supposed  contrariety  to  the  principles  of 
the  Gospel.  The  inventor  of  the  art  of  printing  was 
thought  to  be  in  league  with  the  devil.  Galileo  was 
cast  into  the  dungeons  of  the  Inquisition,  for  teaching 
that  the  sun  is  stationary  and  the  earth  moves  around 
it.  Columbus  was  opposed  in  his  theory  of  the  globular 
shape  of  the  world,  and  of  a  western  passage  to  the  In- 
dies, by  its  alleged  inconsistency  with  revelation.  But 
a  short  time  has  elapsed  since  geology  was  looked  upon 
as  subversive  of  the  whole  Mosaic  narrative.  But  now 
how  changed  the  whole  aspect  of  the  scientific  world. 
Our  men  of  wisdom  are  becoming  men  of  God.  Every 
science  and  every  system  is  now  bringing  its  offering,  to 


48  PHYSICAL  SCIENCE. 

lay  them  at  the  foot  of  the  cross.  Science  and  Eevela- 
tion  walk  hand  in  hand,  the  one  as  the  queen,  the  other 
as  the  queen-daughter  by  her  side.  And  the  missionary 
of  salvation,  as  he  goes  far  hence  to  enlighten  the  teem- 
ing millions  of  the  East,  has  only  to  teach  the  first 
principles  of  ioliy8ical  science,  and  many  of  the  systems 
of  heathenism  begin  to  crumble,  and  their  idols  totter 
to  the  ground.  Glorious  aspect  of  the  sign  of  the  times. 
The  revelations  of  nature  are  in  harmony  with  the 
revelations  of  Scripture.  And  future  Lockes,  placing 
it  above  all  philosophy ;  and  Bacons,  above  all  learning ; 
and  JSTewtons,  above  all  science ;  and  Miltons,  above  all 
song — each  bearing  his  precious  gift — shall  come,  like 
Eastern  magi,  with  their  gold,  their  frankincense  and 
myrrh,  and  lay  them  in  lowly  worship  at  the  feet  of  the 
Prince  of  Peace. 

I  call  upon  the  devotee  of  science  to  contemplate  this 
noble  and  sublime  aspect  of  revealed  religion.  It  is  the 
great  fixed  point  around  which  all  things  else  revolve, 
while  itself  remains  unchanged.  It  is  the  emblem  of 
Him  who  gave  it,  the  all-embracing  medium,  in  which 
every  other  thing  moves,  increases,  or  lessens,  is  born 
and  destroyed.  It  is  the  last  refuge  of  thought,  the 
binding  link  between  the  visible  and  invisible.  It  is 
the  solution  of  all  anomalies,  the  determination  of  all 
problems  in  outward  nature  and  in  the  inward  soul.  It 
is  the  fixing  and  steadifying  element  of  every  system, 
tlie  grand  object  of  every  meditation.  It  appears  to  us 
even  as  the  olive,  that  emblem  of  peace  and  duration,  as 
described  by  Sophocles;  a  plant  not  set  by  human 
hands,  but  of  spontaneous  and  necessary  growth,  in  the 
great  order  of  creative  wisdom ;  fearful  to  its  enemies, 
and  so  firmly  grounded  that  none,  in  ancient  or  modern 
times,  have  been  able  to  uproot  it.  Yea,  it  is  a  monu- 
ment, standing  in  the  solitude  of  the  desert,  upon  which 


THYSICAL   SCIENCE.  49 

is  inscribed  the  history  of  men  and  nations,  which  for 
ages  rose  and  flourislied,  and  then  burst  like  bubbles  at 
its  base.  It  is  a  rock  in  the  ocean  of  time,  which  has 
braved  the  fury  of  a  thousand  storms.  It  has  withstood 
the  plots  of  politicians,  the  revolutions  of  empires,  the 
gloom  of  the  dark  ages,  the  sophistry  of  infidels,  the 
fires  of  martyrdom,  and  the  rage  of  devils. 

In  concluding  this  imperfect  sketch  of  the  present 
aspect  and  practical  tendencies  of  the  physical  sciences, 
we  shall  detain  the  audience  with  only  one  reflection. 
This  subject  teaches  the  transcendent  importance  of 
fostering  schools  and  colleges.  The  discoveries  of  the 
past  must  be  carefully  transmitted  to  the  future.  And 
what  shall  be  tlie  medium  ?  Let  the  great  Lord  Bacon 
answer.  "Our  duty  towards  learning,"  says  he,  "is 
conversant  about  three  objects — the  places  of  learning, 
the  books  of  learning,  and  the  persons  of  the  learned. 
For  as  Avater,  whether  it  be  of  the  dew  of  heaven,  or  the 
springs  of  the  earth,  doth  scatter  and  lose  itself  in  the 
ground,  except  it  be  collected  into  some  receptacle, 
where  it  may,  by  union,  comfort  and  sustain  itself;  and 
for  that  cause  the  industry  of  man  hath  made  and 
framed  spring-heads,  conduits,  cisterns,  and  pools,  Avhicli 
men  have  accustomed  likewise  to  beautify  and  adorn  ;- 
so  this  excellent  liquor  of  knowledge,  whether  it  descends 
from  divine  inspiration  or  springs  from  human  sense, 
would  soon'perish  and  vanish  to  oblivion,  if  it  were  not 
preserved  in  books,  traditions,  conferences,"  and  places 
appointed;  as  universities,  colleges,  and  schools,  for  the 
receipt  and  comforting  of  the  same."  Let  all,  then, 
who  are  engaged  in  founding  institutions  of  learning, 
be  encouraged  by  the  fact  that  they  are  forming  spring- 
heads and  pools  to  collect  and  preserve  *'  this  excellent 
liquor  of  knoAvledge."  Not  all  the  luster  of  a  noble 
birth,  not  all  the  influence  of  wealth  or  fame,  not  all 

3 


50  PHYSICAL  SCIENCE. 

the  pomp  of  titles,  not  all  the  splendor  of  power,  not 
all  the  joys  of  carnal  pleasure,  not  all  the  charms  of 
beauty,  can  impart  such  dignity  to  the  soul,  or  so 
assimilate  man  to  the  angels,  as  this.  This  will  grow, 
while  all  else  decays.  This  will  cling  to  us,  while  all 
else  forsakes.  This  will  survive,  while  the  grandest 
works  of  genius  and  of  art  will  expire  amid  the  univer- 
sal wreck  of  matter  and  of  worlds.  Colleges  will  outlive 
empires. 


DUELmG    IN  YICKSBUEG. 


About  the  time  of  the  removal  of  the  Indians  from 
North  Mississippi  to  the  Indian  Territory,  west  of  the 
river,  Vicksburg  began  to  assume  the  appearance  of  a 
city.  On  my  arrival  from  Louisiana  to  take  the  pastoral 
charge  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  in  that  place,  in  the 
Fall  of  1836,  I  beheld  a  most  animated  scene.  The  eye 
of  the  stranger  was  greeted  by  the  sight  of  a  most  bril- 
liant panorama — crowded  streets,  thronged  wharfs,  well- 
filled  warehouses,  and  a  large  and  bustling  population. 
Every  man  seemed  to  be  a  man  of  business.  Multi- 
tudes were  running  to  and  fro.  The  countenances  of 
all  beamed  with  hope,  the  hearts  of  all  beat  high  with 
joyous  expectation.  Crowds  of  Virginians  and  Ken- 
tuckians,  with  their  families  and  slaves,  were  pouring  in 
from  every  steamer;  and  from  this  city  of  the  bluffs,  as 
from  a  hill  of  observation,  multitudes  were  selecting 
fresh  homes  on  the  Sunflower,  the  Yazoo,  and  other  por- 
tions of  the  vast  territory  offered  for  sale,  by  the  with- 
drawal of  the  red  men  to  the  further  west.  New  streets 
were  opening,  scores  of  new  dwellings  were  in  process 
of  erection,  and  every  corner  rang  with  the  noise  of  the 
saw  and  the  hammer.  Property  of  all  kinds  in  Vicks- 
burg rose  to  a  fabulous  height;  and  hotels  were  crowded 
to  such  a  degree  as  to  make  it  necessary  to  portion  out, 
by  chalk-marks  on  the  floor,  designated  spots  where 
strangers  might  lie  down  and  repose  for  the  night. 
Physicians  and  lawyers  and  land  speculators  were  innu- 


52  DUELING  IN  VICKSBUBG. 

merable.  No  city  in  the  South  was  more  attractive  than 
Vicksbnrg.  Every  man  was  going  to  Vicksburg.  Every 
speculator  was  buying  lots  in  Vicksburg.  Soon,  how- 
ever, the  scene  was  changed.  That  melancholy  pecu- 
niary revulsion  which,  in  1838,  came  upon  the  whole 
commercial  world,  spread  like  a  funeral  pall  over  the 
young  city.  The  hum  of  business  began  to  die  away. 
The  wheels  of  industry  moved  sluggishly.  The  sinews 
of  trade  were  cut;  and  ere  long  every  citizen  experi- 
euced  the  effects  of  a  wide-spread  embarrassment.  And 
soon,  from  loss  of  confidence  and  loss  of  trade,  from 
fires  and  epidemics,  Vicksburg  became  but  the  shadow 
of  its  former  self.  Its  wealth  had  taken  to  itself  wings 
like  an  eagle,  and  had  fled.  The  gay  and  busy  multi- 
tude that  once  thronged  its  streets  had  faded  away. 
They  slept  their  last  sleep  on  the  bleak  hillside  after 
life's*fitful  fever  was  over.  "Lord,  what  is  man!  His 
days  are  as  grass.  As  a  flower  of  the  fieM,  so  he  flour- 
isheth.  For  the  wind  passeth  over  it,  and  it  is  gone ; 
and  the  place  thereof  shall  know  it  no  more,  forever." 

Let  us  take  a  brief  glance  at  another  "picture  from 
life  in  Vicksburg."  We  pass  over  the  years  of  1838  and 
1839,  down  to  1840.  But  the  gloomy  fall  of  1841,  who 
can  forget  it,  who  can  describe  it?  It  was  the  great 
yelloiv  fever  year.  If  an  invading  army  had.  suddenly 
burst  upon  the  town,  the  panic  could  not  have  been 
more  terrible  or  the  effects  more  desolating.  Disease 
and  death  entered  almost  every  dwelling.  For  six  long 
weeks  we  bore  the  dead  to  the  grave  in  almost  one  con- 
tinuous stream.  The  shafts  of  the  pestilence  flew  thick 
and  fast.  And  the  fairest  were  the  first  to  fall.  The 
maiden  was  cut  down  in  her  bloom  and  beauty,  the 
young  man  in  the  midst  of  his  pleasures ;  the  old  man 
and  the  man  of  influence,  the  learned  counselor  and  the 
eloquent  orator.     Death  tore  away  the  props  of  families, 


DUELING  IN  VICKSBURG.  53 

removed  the  ornaments  of  the  State,  broke  clown  the 
pillars  of  the  church,  and  clad  our  city  in  lamentation 
and  woe,  leaving  behind  weeping  widows  and  desolate 
orphans.  Then,  upon  a  damp  and  chilly  Sabbath 
morning  in  November,  with  a  heart  almost  broken  with 
the  afflictions  of  the  people,  I  staggered  to  the  church, 
and  in  the  audience  of  sixty-four  men  (all*told),  and 
not  a  female  in  the  house,  I  spoke  from  these  words  of 
St.  Paul :  ''  But  this  I  say,  brethren,  the  time  is  short. 
It  remaineth  that  both  they  that  have  wives  be  as  though 
they  had  none;  and  they  that  weep,  as  though  they 
wept  not;  and  they  that  rejoice,  as  though  they  rejoiced 
not;  and  they  that  buy,  as  though  they  possessed  not; 
and  they  that  use  this  world,  as  not  abusing  it,  for  the 
fashion  of  this  world  passeth  away." 

Turn  over  to  another  tragedy  in  the  Walnut  Hill 
city.  Vicksburg  had  been,  for  some  years  befoft  the 
season  of  yellow  fever,  the  seat  of  the  gamblers.  The 
formidable  gang  of  the  Murell  men,  which  had  per- 
vaded the  entire  State,  had  been  dispersed.  Murell, 
their  ringleader,  had  been  incarcerated  in  the  peniten- 
tiary at  Nashville,  and  hordes  of  horse-thieves  and  ne- 
gro-stealers  had  been  broken  up.  Then  another  formi- 
dable cloud  arose.  Fierce  and  lawless  men,  but  of  pol- 
ished manners,  who  had  been  increasing  in  numbers  and 
power  in  the  young  city  of  Vicksburg,  had  attracted 
the  notice  of  the  people  of  the  great  South,  and  had 
even  called  down  the  animadversions  of  members  of  the 
British  Parliament.  Gamblers  ruled  the  day.  Gam- 
bling-tables had  usurped  the  place  of  law  and  set  peace- 
ful citizens  at  defiance.  Suddenly  the  mass  of  quiet 
and  law-abiding  men,  who  loved  their  property  and  their 
families,  arose  in  their  armed  majesty,  and,  after  the 
outlaws  had  killed  Dr.  Bodley,  they  seized  the  ringlead- 
ers, put  some  on  flatboats  and  set.  them  adrift  on  the 


64  DUELIXG  IN  VICKSBUEG. 

Mississippi,  and  dragging  five  of  the  remaining  num- 
ber to  a  neighboring  hill,  improvised  a  long  gallows, 
hung  them  by  the  neck  until  they  were  dead,  and  buried 
them  in  unhallowed  graves. 

Then,  for  a  time,  the  place  had  peace.  Next  arose 
the  reign  of  the  duello.  Almost  "  every  man  had  his 
little  game."  Every  one  had  his  duel.  Eival  lovers  had 
their  duel.  Almost  every  dispute  was  settled  by  a  duel. 
Foote  and  Prentiss  had  their  duel.  Hagan  and  McCar- 
dle  had  their  duel.  There  were  duels  of  pastime  and 
duels  of  etiquette.  Aikenhead  and  Flaherty  fought 
about  the  right  mode  of  preparing  Irish  potatoes  for 
the  dinner-table.  Chilton  and  Harris  left  the  Odd  Fel- 
low's lodge  when  in  session,  crossed  the  river,  and  fought. 
General  Foote  and  S.  S.  Prentiss  had  a  rambling  and 
aw^kward  duel;  and  so  crooked  was  the  general's  firing, 
that  ePrentiss  cried  out  to  the  little  boys  on  the  trees 
that  overhung  the  ground,  "  Boys,  look  out,  or  you  will 
be  hit.  General  Foote  can't  shoot  straight.  He  has 
missed  me  three  times."  Lastly,  there  were  some  who 
became  celebrated  surgeons  or  famous  seconds  to  duels. 
Dr.  Green  was  tall  and  gaunt.  He  seemed  to  me  near 
seven  feet  high,  solemn  and  grim  at  that : 

"  The  fiend  was  long,  and  lean,  and  lank, 
And  moved  upon  a  spindle  shank." 

But  because  of  his  skill  in  loading  rifies  for  duels,  Pren- 
tiss dabbed  him  "Death's  ramrod." 

Thus,  from  grave  to  gay,  swung  the  popular  current. 

The  last  serious  affair  of  the  kind,  to  which  I  would 
now  advert,  was  the  celebrated  duel  between  Col.  A.  K. 
McClung  and  Major  Menifee,  opposite  the  city,  in  No- 
vember, 1838.  Col.  McClung  was  a  nephew  of  Chief 
Justice  Marshall,  was  a  famous  duelist,  skilled  to  per- 
fection in  deadly  weapons,  had  killed   Col.  Allen,  of 


DUELING  IN  VICKSBURG.  55 

Brandon,  and,  after  many  rencounters  of  the  kind, 
finally  committed  suicide.  A  challenge  was  passed  and 
accepted  between  the  parties.  Great  preparations  wore 
made.  Fresh  dueling  weapons  were  ordered  from  New 
Orleans.  Sporting  men  came  in  crowds  from  Jackson, 
Brandon,  and  the  interior  towns.  Bets  were  freely  made 
and  accepted.  The  hills  around  the  fatal  spot  were 
covered  with  thousands  of  spectators.  At  the  hour  ap- 
pointed the  parties  took  their  position,  the  word  was 
given,  the  parties  fired,  and  Menifee  fell.  McClung  fled 
to  the  interior.     Major  Menifee  was  buried  on  Friday. 

On  the  following  Sabbatli  morning  a  crowd  assembled 
at  the  Presbyterian  Church,  when  the  writer,  who  had 
been  preparing  a  discourse  for  the  occasion,  arose  and 
spoke  as  follows 

THE   CODE   OF   HONOR. 

"Tliou  Shalt  not  ^u7/."— Exodus  20:13.  This  pro- 
hibitory enactment  of  heaven,  was  designed  to  be  of 
universal  application  ;  forbidding  the  taking,  not  merely 
the  life  of  man,  but  likewise  of  beast. 

Before  any  one,  therefore,  can  be  innocent  in  taking 
life  from  any  creature,  whether  rational  or  irrational, 
he  must  first  obtain  express  permission  from  the  same 
high  authority  from  which  this  law  originally  emanated. 
Such  permission,  has,  in  some  few  particular  cases,  been 
obtained.  Thus  God  expressly  gave  to  Noah  and  his 
sons  permission  to  destroy  the  lives  of  animals  and  use 
their  flesh  as  food.  And  this  grant  contains  our  only 
warrant  for  the  taking  of  animal  life. 

If,  then,  we  may  not  take  the  lives  of  animals  without 
express  permission  from  the  King  of  heaven,  much  less 
may  we  take  away  the  life  of  man — God's  noblest  work, 
made  in  his  own  image,  constituted  Lord  of  Creation, 
endowed  with  reason,  and  heir  of  immortality. 


56  DUELING  IN  VICKSBURG. 

Has  God  specified  any  cases  where  the  life  of  man 
may  be  taken  ?  He  has.  The  Scriptures,  in  several 
places  and  in  a  variety  of  forms,  declare  that  human  life 
may  be  lawfully  destroyed  in  righteous  warfare  between 
two  nations;  by  the  civil  magistrate  as  a  punishment 
for  murder,  and  in  necessary  self-defence.  "With  these 
three  exceptions,  the  Scriptures  are  most  solemn  and 
fearful  in  their  denunciations  of  divine  wrath  and  in- 
dignation against  the  destruction  of  human  life  under 
any  other  circumstances. 

The  prohibition  of  the  text  therefore — "  tJioit  sJialt 
not  hilV^ — is  aimed  directly  against  all  acts  of  violence 
oflfered  to  man  which  are  not  included  under  these  three 
specified  exceptions,  i.  e.,  it  is  aimed  against  murder, 
suicide,  and  diieling.  I  call  your  attention  to  the  latter 
crime. 

Dueling  is  a  crime  of  very  great  prevalence,  upheld 
by  many  plausible  arguments,  and  sometimes  practiced 
or  countenanced  by  individuals  of  high  respectability, 
and  in  some  respects  of  much  moral  worth. 
What  are  the  arguments  against  it  9 

1.  Its  very  origin  and  history  condemns  it.  Dueling 
was  entirely  unknown  among  the  ancient  Greeks  and 
Romans.  The  polished  Greek  knew  nothing  of  it;  the 
noble  Roman  was  above  it.  The  custom  is  exclusively 
of  a  heathenish  and  savage  origin.  It  arose  among  the 
fierce  and  warlike  nations  of  the  north  of  Europe.  The 
ancient  Germans,  Danes,  and  Franks,  carried  this  mode 
of  warfare  so  far,  that  none  were  excused,  except  women, 
sick  persons,  cripples,  and  those  over  sixty  years  of 
age.  Even  ecclesiastics  and  monks  were  required  to 
decide  many  of  their  contests  by  an  appeal  to  single 
combat. 

Bear  in  mind,  however,  that  the  object  and  design  of 
contest  by  duel,  among  those  northern  barbarians,  was 


DUELING  IN  VICKSBURG.  57 

very  different  and  far  more  rational,  than  the  duel  of 
modern  times. 

The  object  of  the  ancient  duel  was  to  decide  impor- 
tant points  relative  to  crime  or  property.  Criminal  ac- 
cusations, or  titles  to  landed  estates,  were  always  the 
subjects  of  dispute.  And  the  trial  by  duel  was  a  species 
of  high  court  of  appeals.  It  was  considered  as  a  direct 
reference  of  the  whole  matter  to  God,  the  great  arbiter 
of  right;  who,  it  was  believed,  would  always  decide  the 
contest  by  terminating  it  in  favor  of  the  innocent  party ; 
and  then  the  party  vanquished,  if  not  slain  upon  the 
spot,  was  punished  by  hanging,  beheading,  or  mutila- 
tion of  members. 

But  tlie  design  of  the  modern  duel  is  vastly  different. 
Its  object  is  to  decide,  not  the  titles  to  property,  or  ac- 
cusations of  crime,  but  points  of  honor — points  of  such 
a  delicate  and  invisible  character,  that  half  the  world 
have  never  yet  been  able  to  perceive  them,  or  determine 
in  what  they  consist. 

The  modern  duel,  or  the  duel  upon  points  of  honor, 
may  be  dated  as  far  back  as  the  year  1528,  when 
Charles  V.,  emperor  of  Germany,  challenged  Francis  I. 
of  France,  by  a  public  herald,  accompanied  by  the  grace- 
ful epithets  of  coward,  liar,  poltroon,  etc.  From  that 
period  it  became  customary,  throughout  Europe,  when- 
ever a  gentleman  received  an  insult  or  injury  which 
seemed  fo  touch  his  honor,  he  thought  himself  entitled 
immediately  to  draw  his  sword  and  demand  satisfac- 
tion. Dueling  became  so  common  in  France,  that  it  is 
calculated  that  six  thousand  persons  perished  in  single 
combat,  during  ten  years  of  the  reign  of  Henry  IV. 
The  effusion  of  human  blood  from  the  same  cause,  was 
frightfully  prevalent  in  England  during  the  time  of 
James  I.  and  the  two  Charleses.  And  what  is  the  his- 
tory of  this  bloody  code  of  honor  in  our  own  land? 


68  DUELING  m  VICKSBURG. 

"Within  the  last  luilf  century  of  our  political  existence, 
how  often  has  our  land  been  clad  in  mourning?  How 
often  have  we  yielded  up  the  most  costly  victim  to  glut 
the  maw  of  this  bloody  Moloch  ?  Hamilton,  and  Deca- 
tur, and  Cilley,  and  a  host  of  others,  both  of  our  army 
ajid  navy,  the  pride  of  many  a  rising  family,  our  coun- 
try's strength  in  war,  its  ornaments  in  peace, — Oh  "how 
are  the  mighty  fallen ! "  How  have  the  most  valuable 
lives  been  sacrificed,  and  the  most  precious  blood  been 
spilt,  in  conformity  to  a  custom  which  knows  no  origin 
but  superstition,  no  reason  but  madness,  no  apology  but 
revenge!  And  the  practice  is  still  gaining  ground,  with 
all  its  attendant  curses, — such  as  the  dishonorable  and 
cowardly  practice  of  carrying  concealed  weapons,  mak- 
ing a  man  an  offender  for  a  word — bloody  broils  and 
street  fights — a  disposition  to  decide  every  contest,  ex- 
cept that  relating  to  property,  by  a  resort  to  the  pistol 
or  the  dagger.  Even  our  sacred  halls  of  legislation 
have  been  the  scene  of  bloody  strife.  Alas,  our  land 
is  soaked  in  gore,  and  calls  on  God  for  vengeance. 
The  very  history  of  dueling  then,  with  its  attendant 
evils,  proclaims  its  condemnation  and  brands  it  with 
infamy. 

2.  Dueling  is  a  direct  violation  of  all  the  settled  prin- 
ciples of  law,  both  human  and  divine. 

In  Genesis,  9 :  6,  God  thus  declares :  "  Whc^  shed- 
deth  man's  blood,  by  man  shall  his  blood  be  shed ;  for 
in  the  image  of  God  made  he  man." 

In  Numbers,  35  :  16,  etc.,  it  is  thus  written — if  a  man 
smite  any  person  "with  an  instrument  of  iron,  so  that 
he  die,"  he  is  a  murderer ;  "  the  murderer  shall  surely  be 
put  to  death."  And  if  he  smite  him  "  with  a  hand  weapon 
of  wood,  wherewith  he  may  die,  and  he  die,  he  is  a  mur- 
derer; the  murderer  shall  surely  be  put  to  death." 
"  Whoso  killeth  any  person,  the  murderer  shall  be  put 


DUELING  IN  VICKSBURG.  59 

to  death  by  the  month  of  witnesses."  "  Moreover,  ye 
shall  take  no  satisfaction  for  the  life  of  a  murderer  who 
is  guilty  of  death,  but  he  shall  surely  be  put  to  death." 
"The  land  cannot  be  cleansed  of  the  blood  shed  therein 
but  by  the  blood  of  him  that  shed  it."  Such  is  the  law 
of  God.  E(iually  explicit  are  the  laws  of  man.  What 
says  Blackstone,  Book  IV.,  ch.  14?  "If  two  persons,  A 
and  B,  agree  to  fight  a  duel,  and  A  gives  the  first  onset, 
and  B  retreats  as  fiir  as  he  safely  can,  and  then  kills  A, 
this  is  murder,  because  of  the  previous  malice  and  con- 
certed design."  Again  says  the  sameautliority  :  "Kill- 
ing must  be  committed  with  malice  aforethoiight  to 
make  it  the  crime  of  murder."  "  This  takes  in  the  case 
of  deliberate  dueling,  where  both  parties  meet  avow- 
edly with  an  intent  to  murder,  thinking  it  their  duty 
as  gentlemen,  and  claiming  it  as  their  right  to  wanton 
with  their  own  lives  and  those  of  their  fellow  creatures, 
without  any  warrant  or  authority  from  any  power, 
either  divine  or  human,  but  in  direct  contradiction  to 
the  laws  of  both  God  and  man;  and,  therefore,  the  law 
has  justly  fixed  the  crime  of  punishment  of  murder  on 
tliem,  and  their  seconds  also." 

What  says  Dr.  Paley  ?  "  Murder  is  forbidden,  and 
wherever  human  life  is  deliberately  taken  away,  other- 
wise than  by  public  authority,  there  is  murder." 

AVhat  says  Mr.  Russell,  in  his  treatise  on  crimes  ?  "  A 
party  killing  another  in  a  deliberate  duel  is  guilty  of 
murder,  and  cannot  help  himself  by  alleging  that  he 
Avas  first  struck  by  the  deceased,  or  that  he  had  often 
declined  to  meet  him,  and  was  prevailed  upon  to  do  so 
by  his  importunity,  or  that  it  w^as  his  intent  only  to 
vindicate  his  reputation,  or  that  he  meant  not  to  kill, 
only  to  disarm  his  adversary.  He  has  deliberately 
engaged  in  an  act  highly  unlawful,  and  he  must  abide 
the  consequences." 


60  DUELING  IN  VICKSBURG. 

Such  is  the  law  of  England.  The  laws  of  almost 
every  commonwealth  in  the  United  States  are  equally 
explicit.  In  Vermont,  for  killing  in  a  duel,  it  is  death. 
In  Massachusetts  it  is  the  same.  In  Rhode  Island, 
for  fighting,  although  death  may  not  ensue,  the  punish- 
ment is  carting  to  the  gallows,  with  a  rope  ahout  the 
neck,  and  sitting  on  the  gallows  an  hour,  and  subse- 
quent imprisonment.  In  Maryland  and  Virginia,  it  is 
political  disfranchisement.  What  is  the  law  of  Missis- 
sippi ?  The  challenger,  or  bearer  of  a  challenge,  is  pro- 
hibited from  holding  any  office  of  trust,  and  is  liable  to 
six  months'  imprisonment,  and  a  fine  of  one  thousand 
dollars. 

All  justices  of  the  peace  are  required  to  give  testi- 
mony against  duelists,  and  the  survivors  in  a  duel 
required  to  pay  the  debts  of  the  man  killed. 

But  here  is  a  code  of  laws,  setting  at  naught  all  these 
sacred  enactments  both  of  earth  and  heaven.  Coming 
out  like  Goliath  of  Gath,  and  defying  the  authority  of 
the  living  God. 

3.  Dueling  is  murder,  and  tliat  too  of  the  most  aggra- 
vated and  enormous  character,  and  it  is  murder,  not 
merely  where  the  death  of  one  of  the  parties  ensues. 
For  the  common  law  declares  that  if  one  man  attempts 
the  life  of  another  and  fails  in  tlie  attempt,  he  is  a  mur- 
derer, and  should  be  punished  accordingly.  Look,  too, 
at  the  many  additional  circumstances,  which  constitute 
every  duel,  whether  resulting  fatally  or  not,  the  most 
lieav en-daring  murder. 

It  is  premeditated  murder  ;  for  every  challenge  con- 
tains a  proposition  to  kill  or  be  killed!  It  is  accepted 
always  with  the  express  expectation  of  killing  or  being 
killed.  It  is  deliberate  murder  ;  for  days  and  even 
weeks  often  elapse  previous  to  the  contemplated  meet- 
ing.   In  the  meantime  weapons  are  prepared,  and  that 


DUELING  IN  VICKSBURG.  Gl 

too  of  the  most  deadly  character.  Previous  practicing 
takes  place.  Friends  are  chosen.  The  spot  is  marked 
out.  Witnesses  are  present.  The  broad  light  of  heaven 
beams  down  upon  the  guilty  scene;  and  then,  all  tilings 
being  ready,  the  most  deliberate  aim  is  taken  at  the  seat 
of  life — the  head,  the  heart,  and  the  lungs. 

Can  any  murder  be  conceived  of  a  more  atrocious 
character  than  this?  Does  the  highwayman  or  the 
assassin  commit  murder  under  circumstances  half  so 
aggravating?  Murder,  then,  is  committed  in  duels  with 
ten-fold  more  deliberation  than  murder  under  any  other 
circumstances,  and  murder  is  here  committed  without 
any  adequate  cause.  "Trifles  light  as  air,"  causes  the 
most  contemptible  and  silly,  a  rash  word,  a  disrespectful 
look,  an  indiscreet  remark,  dropped  in  the  heat  of  de- 
bate, the  clashing  claims  of  rival  lovers,  party  politics, 
petty  envy — oh!  these  are  the  causes  for  which  men  ex- 
pose their  blood,  and  rush  upon  the  bosses  of  Jehovah's 
buckler. 

But  it  is  said  that  the  duelist  feels  no  malice  ;  that 
he  fights  merely  for  the  point  of  honor.  IS'either  does 
the  highwayman  feel  malice.  He  who  cuts  the  throat 
and  rifles  the  pocket  of  the  passing  traveler,  feels  no 
malice ;  and  if  he  could  procure  his  money  at  a  less 
costly  price,  would  stay  his  murderous  hand  and  let  the 
trembling  victim  off.  But  what  says  the  common  law 
relative  to  this  thing  of  killing  without  malice  ?  It  de- 
clares where  one  man  assails  another  with  a  deadly 
instrument  with  an  intent  to  kill,  malice  is  implied. 
For  if  he  have  not  a  particular  malice,  he  entertains  a 
general  malice — a  malice  against  all  mankind — an  in- 
nate thirst  for  blood,  which  renders  him  unfit  to  live. 
But  we  deny  that  the  duelist  is  free  from  particular 
malice. 

Duels  are  generally  the  result  of  the  most  deliberate 


62  DUELING  m  YICKSBURG. 

malice;    burning,    diabolical    malice;    malice,    which 
nothing  will  satisfy  but  the  heart's  blood. 

Duelists,  as  a  class,  are  preeminently  haughty,  irri- 
table and  revengeful^  and  to  overlook  an  insult,  that 
magnanimous  act  of  a  noble  soul,  is,  in  their  view,  the 
height  of  pusilanimity. 

4.  Dueling  is  suicide,  as  well  as  murder,  and  suicide 
may  be  committed  not  merely  by  one's  own  weapon,  but 
by  the  weapon  of  another. 

To  permit  another  man  deliberately  to  kill  you,  is  the 
same  as  to  commit  the  act  yourself.  Take  away  the 
circumstance  of  the  duelist  exposing  his  own  life,  and 
dueling  becomes  assassination.  Add  this  circumstance 
and  it  becomes  suicide.  And  who  gave  you  authority 
to  take  away  your  own  life,  that  most  precious  treasure, 
upon  which  such  momentous  interests  depend  ?  Your 
life  is  not  your  own.  It  belongs  to  your  friends,  your 
family,  your  creditors,  your  country.  How  dare  you 
then,  destroy  that  in  which  you  do  not  possess  an  ex- 
clusive title  ?  How  dare  you  destroy  that  which  was 
given  you  with  which  to  work  out  your  soul's  salvation  ? 
Yea,  the  duelist  puts  himself  upon  an  equality  with  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Christ  says,  "  I  have  power  (or  au- 
thority) to  lay  down  my  life."  The  duelist  says  "  so 
have  I  ! " 

5.  Dueling  affords  no  reasonable  prospect  of  securing 
the  proposed  end.  The  end  or  object  proposed  by  the 
duelist  is  to  gain  satisfaction  for  some  alleged  insult,  or 
to  inflict  punishment  for  some  alleged  crime.  But  how 
can  the  fighting  a  duel  secure  either  satisfaction  or 
punishment,  seeing  that  the  innocent  is  just  as  liable 
to  fall  as  the  guilty ;  seeing  that  the  victim  depends  not 
upon  the  rectitude  of  the  cause,  but  upon  skill  in  the 
use  of  deadly  weapons.  Or,  is  the  object  of  a  duel  to 
wipe  off  a  disgrace,  to  repel  a  foul  and  infamous  charge  ? 


DUELING  IN  VICKSBUIIG.  63 

How  can  it  possibly  effect  this  object  ?  How  can 
smoke,  and  noise,  and  blood  alter  the  nature  of  things  ? 
I  am  accused  of  being  a  liar,  how  can  the  firing  of  a 
pistol  make  me  a  man  of  truth  ?  I  am  accused  of  being 
a  yillain  and  a  knave,  how  can  the  same  process  prove 
the  charge  false,  and  make  me  an  honorable  man  ? 

But  absurd  as  it  would  seem  to  the  dull  comprehen- 
sion of  some  of  us,  such  is  the  magic  power  of  an  ex- 
change of  shots.  According  to  the  laws  of  honor,  "  it 
entirely  varnishes  over  a  defective  and  smutty  charac- 
ter; transforms  vice  to  virtue;  cowardice  to  courage; 
makes  falsehood,  truth;  guilt,  innocence."  In  a  word, 
it  gives  a  new  complexion  to  the  whole  state  of  things. 
The  Ethiopian  changes  his  skin,  the  leopard  his  spots  ; 
and  the  debauched  and  treacherous,  having  shot  away 
the  infamy  of  a  sorry  life,  comes  back  from  the  field  of 
perfectibility  quite  regenerated,  and  in  the  fullest  sense, 
an  honorable  man.  He  is  now  fit  for  the  company  of 
*'  gentlemen."  And  let  none  dare  dispute  his  title,  or 
he  will  vindicate  his  tarnished  honor  by  another  act  of 
homicide.  Oh,  what  a  cheap  and  expeditious  mode  of 
making  gentlemen  ! 

6.  Dueling  implies  cowardice.  Many  brave  men  have 
fought,  but  their  fighting  was  no  part  of  their  bravery. 
True,  there  may  be  courage,  but  it  is  only  brute  cour- 
age. Why  is  it  that  duelists  often  find  such  difficulty 
to  screw  their  courage  to  the  sticking  point,  and  ex- 
hibit such  woe-begone  visages  on  the  field  of  battle  ? 
Why  so  many  wild  and  random  shots  ? 

But  it  is  not  the  lack  of  physical  courage  for  which  we 
contend.  The  duelist  lacks  moral  courage.  He  fights 
because  he  is  afraid  of  public  sentiment — afraid  of  being 
called  a  coward  ;  he  stands  in  awe  of  the  sneers  of  the 
ungodly  multitude.  Who  is  the  truly  brave  ?  He  who 
conquers  his  corrupt  passions.     He  who  stems  manfully 


64  DUELING  IN  VICKSBURG. 

the  torrent  of  depraved  public  sentiment.  He  who  dares 
to  do  what  he  knows  to  be  right,  and  dares  to  abstain 
from  what  he  knows  to  be  wrong.  But  mark  that  little 
pusillanimous  soul,  violating  his  conscience,  lest  for- 
sooth he  may  be  called  a  coioard — thus  x^roving  himself 
to  be  the  very  thing  he  would  not  have  the  world  to 
think  him ! 

7.  Dueling,  if  it  terminate  fatally,  damns  the  soul. 
"No  murderer  hath  eternal  life  abiding  in  him." 

In  the  case  of  suicide  we  may  hope  there  was  insan- 
ity. In  the  case  of  execution  for  murder,  we  may  see 
previous  exhibitions  of  genuine  repentance.  But  what 
is  our  hope  of  him,  who  falls  in  the  very  act  of  defying 
the  authority  of  the  great  Jehovah — dies  a  murderer — 
dies  and  goes  to  judgment — with  blood  upon  his  soul! 

They  turn'd  liim  on  his  back  ;  his  breast 
And  brow  were  stain'd  with  gore  and  dust 
And  through  his  lips  the  life-blood  oozed, 
From  its  deep  veins  so  lately  loosed  ; 
But  in  his  pulse  there  was  no  throb, 
Nor  on  his  lips  one  dying  sob  ; 
Sigh,  nor  word,  nor  struggling  breath 
Heralded  his  way  to  death  : 
Ere  his  very  thought  could  pray, 
Unanel'd  he  pass'd  away. 
Without  a  hope  from  mercy's  aid — 
To  the  last  a  renegade. 

8.  Dueling  is  a  most  unjust  and  disproportioned  code 
of  iniquity.  It  inflicts  the  very  same  degree  of  punish- 
ment upon  all  offences  indiscriminately.  Death  for  a 
thoughtless  word ;  and  death  for  a  deliberate  act.  Yea, 
it  is  a  complete  system  of  bullying.  See  with  what  in- 
stinctive sagacity  this  trained  blood-hound  selects  his 
victim — always,  if  he  can,  insulting  some  one  over  whom 
he  knows  he  has  some  advantage ;  and  then  dogging 
him  from  place  to  place  to  seek  his  blood.     Oh,  the 


DUELING  IN  VICKSBURG.  65 

horrors  of  this  bloody  code  of  honor ;  trampling  with 
fiendish  cruelty  upon  all  the  sacred  feelings  of  the 
heart;  stained  with  the  blood  of  statesmen,  fathers, 
husbands ;  revelling  in  the  groans  of  widows,  the  wail 
of  orphans,  the  shrieks  of  sisters,  lovers,  friends  ! 

" Is  there  not  some  chosen  curse, 

Some  hidden  thunder  in  the  stores  of  heaven, 
Red  with  uncommon  wratli,  to  blast  the  man 
"Who  gains  his  honor  from  the  blood  of  souls?" 

9.  Dueling  is  condemned  by  tlie  very  confessions  of 
duelists  themselves.  What  bitter  groans  and  regrets 
fell  from  the  lips  of  Hamilton  and  Decatur !  Observe 
the  subsequent  life  and  conduct  of  a  successful  duelist. 
Did  you  ever  know  such  a  man  to  be  happy  ?  Is  he  not 
pre-eminently  miserable  ?  afraid  of  being  alone ;  plung- 
ing into  one  crime  to  avoid  the  reflection  of  another; 
drowning  conscience  in  the  intoxicating  cup ;  and  often 
becoming  the  victim  of  derangement.  Then  how  con- 
science thunders  and  remorse  goads;  and  the  grim  and 
gory  ghost  of  the  murdered  one  haunts  him  in  his 
dreams!  Oh,  could  he  but  drink  of  some  oblivious 
stream  and  forget  the  past — forget  that  once  he  opened 
the  fountain  of  the  orphan's  tears,  and  broke  the  widow's 
heart!  But  no,  he  cannot.  Eternal  justice  will  not 
suffer  it.  Oh!  duelist,  the  remembrance  of  your  deeds 
must  follow  you.  Conscience  will  interpret  everything 
into  an  accusation.  When  men  fasten  their  eyes  upon 
you,  you  will  think  they  remember  the  man  you  mur- 
dered. 

When  men  stand  in  groups  and  speak  in  whispers, 
you  will  imagine  they  are  talking  about  you.  Every 
work  of  God,  and  every  deed  of  man  will  be  to  you  an 
accuser.  Oh,  the  horrors  of  blood-guiltiness !  How  it 
clings  like  a  hungry  vulture  to  the  guilty  soul ! 


QQ  DUELING  m  VICKSBUEa. 

*'  Tliough  thy  slumbers  may  be  deep. 
Yet  tliy  spirit  sliall  not  sleep, 
There  are  shades  that  will  not  vanish, 
There  are  thoughts  thou  canst  not  banish  ; 
By  a  power  to  thee  unknown, 
Thou  canst  never  be  alone. 
By  thy  delight  in  others'  pain, 
By  thy  brotherhood  of  Cain, 
I  call  upon  thee  and  compel, 
Thyself  to  be  thy  proper  hell." 

10.  Dueling  is  subversive  of  all  law  and  government. 
It  saps  the  very  foundations  of  civilized  society ;  for  it 
usurps  the  highest  prerogatives  of  a  nation :  the  right 
of  taking  away  human  life.  The  duelist  takes  upon 
himself  the  adjudication  of  his  own  wrongs,  and  thus 
lends  his  influence  to  resolve  society  into  its  original 
elements.  All  the  laws  of  God  and  man  must  give  way, 
while  this  man  adjusts  his  quarrels.  He  must  have  the 
whole  field  of  social,  civil,  and  domestic  relations  sub- 
ject to  his  fury.  What  though  his  enemy  be  a  citizen 
charged  with  duty  to  the  State ;  or  a  representative  en- 
trusted with  the  interest  of  his  constituents ;  or  a  friend 
gladdening  many  a  social  circle;  or  a  son  sustaining 
and  blessing  fond  and  white-haired  parents;  or  a  hus- 
band cherishing  a  devoted,  faithful  wife;  or  a  father, 
surrounded  by  afiectionate,  helpless  children ;  what 
though  he  be  all  these  and  more — the  claim  of  the 
duelist  for  his  blood,  on  account  of  some  unguarded  or 
disrespectful  word,  is  paramount  to  every  other.  God, 
and  law,  and  nature,  with  all  their  sacredness,  must  be 
despised  and  trampled  under  foot,  while  this  incarna- 
tion of  ferocity  gnashes  his  teeth,  and  gluts  his  maw, 
and  quenches  his  fevered  thirst  for  blood.  And  if  he 
may  act  thus,  why  not  his  neighbor  ? 

For  what  is  right  in  one  man,  cannot  be  wrong  in 
another.    If  you  have  a  right  to  adjudicate  your  own 


DUELING   IN   VICKSBUIIG.  67 

quarrels,  so  have  /.  If  men  have,  so  have  hoys.  And 
if  you  may  kill  your  fellow-man  for  a  word,  why  not  for 
a  deed?  why  not  for  a  malicious  prosecution,  for  dis- 
turbing your  slumbers  by  a  midnight  riot,  for  bringing 
a  contagious  disease  into  your  neighborhood  and  en- 
dangering the  lives  of  your  family  ?  Oh,  the  long  train 
of  cause  which  follow  in  the  train  of  this  bloody  god  of 
honor!  Every  day  our  ears  are  made  to  tingle  by  tales 
of  anarchy  and  violence,  the  brandishing  of  knives  and 
pistols,  the  deeds  of  desperadoes  and  cut-throats,  and  all 
from  what  cause?     Dueling  is  the  cause  of  it. 

Let  us  noiv  briefly  hear  and  ansioer  some  of  the  argu- 
ments of  the  duelist. 

The  duelist  says  that  dueling,  notwithstanding  all 
that  has  been  said  against  it,  is  necessary  "  as  giving  a 
man  a  passport  among  gentlemen."  What  a  cheap  way 
of  making  a  gentleman!  But  are  duelists  more  of 
gentlemen  than  their  neighbors  ?  Are  they  more  hon- 
orable in  their  dealings,  more  punctual  in  the  payment 
of  their  debts,  and  more  attentive  to  all  the  courtesies 
of  life  than  other  men  ?  Who  generally  fight  duels  ? 
The  blustering  and  the  boisterous,  bankrupts,  gamblers, 
and  upstarts — men  often  stained  with  a  thousand 
crimes. 

The  duelist  contends  that  the  practice  "has  a  ten- 
dency to  make  men  polite  and  cautious  in  their 
remarks."  Oh,  it  is  making  us  polite  savages,  accom- 
plished barbarians;  causing  men,  from  fear  of  some 
swaggering  bully,  to  go  armed  to  the  teeth.  Dueling, 
then,  is  producing  the  politeness  of  bandits  and  pirates. 
AVe  are  told  that  there  are  certain  offences  for  which  the 
law  of  the  land  provides  no  remedy,  and,  therefore,  the 
duelist  must  fight.  And  what  are  these  off'ences  ?  Are 
they  not  generally  the  silliest  trifles,  fit  only  for  children 
in  the  nursery  ?     And  where  is   the  duelist's  magna- 


68  DUELING  IN  VICKSBURG. 

nimity,  that  he  cannot  pass  over  an  insult?  A  gentle- 
man luill  not  insult  you,  a  blackguard  cannot. 

We  are  told  that  it  is  the  only  way  of  avoiding  the 
imputation  of  cowardice.  You  say,  "  How  shall  I  avoid 
tlie  imputation  of  cowardice  unless  I  fight?"  I  would 
reply,  if  you  do  fight,  how  will  you  avoid  the  imputa- 
tion of  cruelty  to  your  friends  ?  of  dishonesty  to  your 
creditors  ?  of  guilt  to  your  conscience  and  your  God  ? 
And  if  you  fall,  hoAV  will  you  avoid  the  damnation  of 
hell?  These  are  previous  questions,  which  you  are 
called  upon  to  settle.  Let  your  motto  be,  "I  am  not 
afraid  to  fight,  but  I  am  afraid  to  sin."  And  if  you 
wish  to  show  your  courage,  prosecute  your  challenger ; 
defend  your  person,  if  he  assails  you ;  and  help  in  voting 
out  of  office  every  officer  who. does  not  exert  his  au- 
thority in  suppressing  this  vice,  and  in  keeping  the 
peace. 

But  the  duelist  says:  "My  character — my  precious 
character  has  been  assailed,  and  I  must  defend  it." 
And  what  a  frail  thing  your  character  must  be,  that  a 
little  breath  of  calumny  can  tarnish  it.  If  your  char- 
acter is  such  a  brittle  thing  as  this,  you  had  better  get 
a  better  character — a  firmer,  stronger  character.  But 
the  duelist  says  again :  "  I  cannot  bear  up  under  the 
imputations  cast  upon  my  honor.  I  would  rather  die 
than  bear  it."  Where  is  the  duelist's  vaunted  courage  ? 
I  thought  duelists  were  all  brave  and  heroic  men.  But 
it  seems  that  a  little  charge  breaks  them  down.  They 
have  not  half  the  courage  of  many  Avomen.  Others 
have  been  called  liars  and  cowards,  and  still  have  sur- 
vived, the  charge.  And  why  may  not  these  brave  and 
fearless  souls,  by  a  few  years  of  perseverance  in  the  path 
of  rectitude,  silence  every  slander,  and  live  down  every 
imputation  ? 

In  conclusion,  by  all  the  solemn  motives  which  can 


DUELING  IN  VICKSBURG.  69  I 

operate  upon  a  higli-mindecl  and  generous  community,  ; 

I  appeal  to  yoii: — 1  call  upon  you  as  patriots,  as  heads 
of  families,  as  lovers  of  peace,  as  friends  of  God — by  all  ' 

the  sacredness  of  human  life,  by  the  law  of  your  country, 
by  the  universal  conscience  of  the  civilized  world ;  for 
the  sake  of  our  talented  and  cliivalrous  youth,  on  whom  I 

our  country  depends  in  war  and  in  peace ;  by  the  silence  I 

of  the  dead;  by  the  agony  of  surviving  friends;  by  the 
anguish  of  widows,  and  the  loneliness  of  orphans;  by 
all  the  joys  of  heaven  and  hopeless  misery  of  the  lost,  I  \ 

adjure  you  to  stay  this  foe  to  God  and  man.  Let  every 
freeman,  and  every  man  of  moral  courage,  raise  his  voice 
in  lionest  indignation;  let  the  press  speak  out,  and 
record  every  duel  as  a  murder;  let  the  lodge  expel  every  \ 

Mason  who  fights;  let  candidates  for  office  be  required  : 

to  abjure  the  bloody  code;  let  every  association  whicli  ' 

has  for  its  object  the  amelioration  of  society,  or  the  pro-  ' 

tection  of  property,  frown  upon  the  duelist,  and  drive  j 

him  forth,  a  second  Cain,  with  the  brand  of  guilt  burn-  ^ 

ing  on  his  brow — the  stigma  of  murder  fixed  upon  his  I 

name.  ; 


THE   DIGNITY 


MINISTERIAL    OFFICE. 


Preached  at  the  installation  of  Rev.  J,  J.  Read,  of  Houston  Church,  Dec.  10, 1873. 


"  I  magnify  mine  office^ — EomaJis  11 :  13.  No  man 
ever  entertained  a  more  exalted  conception  of  the  dig- 
nity of  his  office,  than  did  the  apostle  Paul.  With  an 
intellect  refined  to  all  the  culture  of  the  age,  with  pros- 
pects of  worldly  eminence  unsurpassed  by  any  of  his 
cotemporaries,  he  made  of  them  a  most  willing  sacrifice. 
Yea,  doubtless  he  counted  all  things  but  loss  that  he 
might  win  Christ,  and  become  a  herald  of  his  great 
salvation  to  the  Gentile  world.  Acting  on  the  principle 
suggested  by  sound  philosophy,  that  no  one  can  excel 
in  any  profession  or  pursuit  in  life,  who  does  not  enter- 
tain for  it  a  most  exalted  conception,  and  engage  in  its 
duties  with  an  ardor  bordering  on  enthusiasm,  he  com- 
menced a  career  of  toil,  of  self-denial,  and  of  sufi'ering, 
of  which  the  world  cannot  present  a  parallel.  Hence, 
in  every  sacrifice  he  made,  in  every  epistle  he  penned, 
in  every  church  he  founded,  in  every  peril  by  land  and 
sea  which  he  endured — whether  we  view  him  standing 
before  Felix,  and  reasoning  with  such  overpowering 
majesty,  as  to  cause  that  proud  ruler  to  tremble,  or  as 
stauding  on  Mars  Hill,  surrounded  by  the  venerable 
court  of  the  Areopagus,  and  there  uttering  terrible  de- 


THE   DIGNITY   OF  THE   MINISTERLVL   OFFICE.  71 

imiiciutions  against  those  heathen  gods,  Avhose  mag- 
nificent temples  reared  their  stately  columns  all  around 
him — one  grand  conception  filled  his  soul,  one  master 
passion  ruled  his  life,  and  that  was,  to  "magnify  his 
office" — to  feel  himself  and  make  all  around  him  feel, 
that  he  was  clad  with  a  vocation  of  all  others  the  most 
honorable  and  the  most  important,  Avorthy  of  his  loftiest 
ambition,  his  most  fervent  zeal,  his  most  unbounded 
efforts. 

TJie  text  suggests  the  dignity  and  importance  of  the 
ministerial  office. 

1.  This  is  shown  from  the  honor  which  God  has 
placed  upon  it  in  all  ages  of  the  world,  and  under  all 
dispensations  of  the  Church.  God  has  but  rarely  com- 
municated his  will  to  earth,  without  the  instrumental 
agency  of  man.  Though  sometimes  he  has  made  his 
purposes  known  by  the  medium  of  angels,  by  voices 
from  the  skies,  by  miracles,  by  solemn  and  significant 
ceremonies,  by  the  peaceful  rainbow,  and  the  rumbling 
earthquakes ;  yet  it  has  ever  be^n  his  chosen  and  most 
peculiar  method  to  transmit  his  pleasure  to  earth  by  the 
lips  of  the  living  preacher,  and  the  familiar  and  per- 
suasive tones  of  the  human  voice.  And  although  this 
chosen  medium  of  divine  communication  is  designated 
in  Scripture  by  different  appellations — though  the  men 
thus  called  by  God  are  denominated  Priests,  Prophets, 
Preachers,  or  Seers, — yet  the  honor  and  the  office  have 
ever  been  substantially  the  same.  Enoch,  the  seventh 
from  Adam,  was  a  prophet  of  the  Lord,  a  public  pro- 
claimer  of  the  will  of  heaven ;  and  at  last,  in  public  at- 
testation of  his  ministerial  character  and  holy  life,  he 
was  translated  to  heaven,  that  he  should  not  see  death. 
Noah  also  is  denominated  a  preacher  of  righteousness; 
and  during  that  long  term  of  years  in  which  he  was 
preparing  an  ark  for  the  saving  of  his  house,  he  was  oc- 


72         THE  DIGNITY   OF  THE   MINISTEKIAL  OFFICE. 

cupied  in  publicly  denouncing  the  sins  of  his  time,  and 
warning  an  ungodly  world  of  its  approaching  doom. 
Abraham  commanded  his  numerous  household  to  serve 
the  living  God.  Melchisedec  was  Prince  of  Salem, 
priest  of  the  most  high  God,  a  glorious  type  of  Christ, 
and  i^ublished  the  glad  news  of  future  Gospel  times. 
Moses  was  a  most  eminent  publisher  of  heaven's  will, 
deliverer,  judge,  ruler,  and  preacher — proclaimed  the 
law  of  God  from  Mount  Sinai,  established  the  Jewish 
Church,  and  for  forty  years,  his  speech  distilled  like  the 
dew  upon  the  assembled  congregations  of  God's  chosen 
people.  And  thus,  from  Moses  and  Aaron  to  Solomon, 
Prince  of  Judah,  and  Amos,  a  herdsman  of  Tekoa,  the 
noblest  and  most  honored  of  all  Israel's  sons  were  pub- 
lic proclaimers  of  heaven's  will.  Some  of  these  preachers 
delivered  their  messages  in  camps,  and  in  courts,  in 
deserts  and  on  housetops.  Some  spoke  to  crowds,  and 
some  to  individual  auditors,  as  the  Lord  commanded. 
Sometimes  they  appeared  in  public  with  dishevelled 
hair  and  torn  garments — with  leathern  girdles  around 
their  loins,  and  weapons  of  war  in  their  hands,  and 
yokes  of  slavery  on  their  necks,  and  in  various  other 
methods  by  which  to  startle  and  alarm  the  people.  They 
wept,  and  fasted,  and  prayed,  and  prophesied,  and 
preached.  There  were  schools  of  the  prophets,  semina- 
ries for  theological  training,  over  which  venerable  men, 
such  as  Elisha,  and  Samuel,  and  others,  presided.  Be- 
hold Elijah,  the  Tishbite.  He  was  an  awful  and  soli- 
tary man.  The  divine  afflatus  came  upon  him,  and 
tore  him  from  the  plow,  and  hurried  him  into  the  wil- 
derness, where,  communing  with  God  and  nature,  he 
becomes  qualified  to  be  a  reprover  of  kings,  a  denouncer 
of  woe  to  a  degenerate  people.  Then  suddenly,  as  a 
vision  of  the  night,  he  bursts  upon  King  Ahab,  delivers 
his  message,  and  as  suddenly  disappears.    Where  is  he  ? 


THE   DIGNITY   OF  THE   MINISTERIAL   OFFICE.  to 

AVe  find  him  shortly  after  in  a  poor  widow's  dwelling, 
multiplying  her  Inmdful  of  meal  and  crnse  of  oil,  and 
raising  her  dead  son  to  life.  Again  we  see  him  upon 
the  top  of  Mount  Carmel,  challenging  the  priests  of 
Baal  (four  hundred  and  fifty),  and  the  prophets  of  the 
groves  (four  hundred  and  fifty),  to  a  public  decision  hy 
fire,  whether  Baal  be  God,  or  Jehovah  be  God.  Where 
is  he  now  ?  He  is  at  the  brook  Kishon,  a  heaven-con- 
stituted homicide,  shiying  the  false  prophets,  heaps 
upon  heaps.  Now  we  find  him  compelling  clouds  and 
rain  from  the  brazen  sky  and  running  before  Ahab's 
chariot,  to  the  entrance  of  Jezreel.  We  follow  him 
again,  a  fugitive  from  Jezebel's  vengeance,  fleeing  into 
the  wilderness  ;  fed  by  ravens  ;  lodged  in  a  cave ;  com- 
muning with  God  in  the  wind,  in  the  earthquake,  and 
the  fire ;  and  as  he  hears  the  still,  small  voice,  he  wraps 
his  face  in  his  mantle  and  bows  his  head,  and  worships. 
Again  he  sallies  forth  into  the  busy  populace,  armed 
with  new  terror,  and  burning  to  utter  new  messages ; 
anoints  Elisha  as  his  successor ;  appears  once  more  as  a 
ghost  to  king  Ahab ;  then  turns  his  weary  steps  once 
more  towards  Jordan,  with  none  but  Elisha  with  him  ; 
smites  the  waters  with  his  mantle ;  passes  over  dryshod ; 
meets  the  fiery  chariot  let  down  from  heaven  ;  mounts 
the  chariot  like  a  king  and  conqueror ;  is  carried  up- 
ward in  a  whirlwind  ;  drops  his  mantle  ;  while  Elisha 
stands  awe-struck  and  cries  after  him,  "  My  father,  my 
father,  the  chariot  of  Israel  and  the  horseman  thereof." 
(See  Gillfillan). 

Pass  now  over  a  long  sweep  of  years,  and  see  what 
honor  still  clings  to  the  heaven-constituted  office  of 
God's  ministry,  at  a  most  important  crisis  in  Jewish  his- 
tory. The  Babylonish  captivity,  covering  a  period  of 
seventy  years,  is  drawing  to  its  close.  The  captives  of 
Israel,  who  had  long  hung  their  harps  on  the  willows 
4 


74         THE  DIGNITY  OF  THE  MINISTERIAL  OFFICE. 

that  skirted  tlie  streams  of  Babylon,  and  wept  in  silence 
when  they  remembered  their  distant  homes,  now  lift  up 
their  heads  with  joy.  The  edict  of  Cyrus  has  gone 
forth — "Jerusalem  shall  be  rebuilt — her  altars  re-es- 
tablished. Eeturn,  ye  ransomed  people,  home."  Then, 
at  the  grand  re-organization  of  state  and  temple,  behold 
God  calling  into  prominent  view  his  own  chosen  servants 
to  do  his  own  chosen  work.  What  moral  sublimity, 
clusters  around  the  person  of  Ezra,  as,  on  the  return  of 
the  people,  he  collects  fifty  thousand  souls  together  near 
the  water-gate,  in  the  streets  of  Jerusalem.  A  pulpit 
of  wood  is  erected  above  the  heads  of  the  immense 
mass,  where,  on  elevated  seats,  on  right  and  left,  sat  the 
Levites  and  elders  of  the  people.  As  Ezra  ascends  the 
pulpit  and  opens  the  law,  the  whole  mass,  by  a  simulta- 
neous impulse,  rise  and  stand.  As  he  offers  up  prayer 
and  praise  to  God  the  people  bow  their  heads  and  wor- 
ship, with  their  faces  to  the  ground ;  and  at  the  pray- 
er's close,  with  uplifted  heads  and  hands,  they  respond, 
"Amen,  amen." 

Then  the  sermon  begins — and  what  a  sermon!  For, 
as  the  preacher  proceeds,  every  eye  becomes  a  fountain 
of  tears;  and  the  elders  weep;  and  the  Levites  weep; 
and  all  the  people  weep.  And  toward  noon  tlie  weeping 
became  so  excessive  and  exhausting  that  the  preacher 
and  Levites  had  to  restrain  them.  And  in  obedience  to 
these  wise  and  holy  men,  fifty  thousand  hearts  are 
calmed  in  a  moment,  and  they  disperse  in  peace.  Plato 
was  alive  at  this  very  time,  teaching  cold  philosophy  to 
cold  academies.  But  what  was  Plato,  and  what  was 
Xenophon,  and  what  was  Demosthenes,  in  comparison 
with  Ezra  preaching  at  the  water-gate,  in  the  streets  of 
Jerusalem  ? 

From  this  period  to  the  Christian  era,  public  preach- 
ing was  universal;   synagogues  were  multiplied;  vast 


THE   DIGNITY   OF   THE   IHINISTERLVL   OFFICE.  75 

numbers  attended ;  and  elders  and  preachers  were  ap- 
pointed for  the  purpose  of  order  and  instruction.  At 
last  "  came  John  the  Baptist,  preaching  in  the  wilder- 
ness of  Judea,  and  saying,  repent  ye ;  for  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  is  at  hand.  For  this  is  he  that  was  spoken 
of  by  the  prophet  Esaias,  saying,  The  voice  of  one  cry- 
ing in  tlie  wilderness,  Prepare  ye  the  way  of  the  Lord, 
■make  his  paths  straight.  And  the  same  John  had  his 
raiment  of  camel's  hair,  and  a  leathern  girdle  about  his 
loins;  and  his  meat  was  locusts  and  wild  honey.  Then 
went  out  to  him  Jerusalem,  and  all  Judea,  and  all  the 
region  round  about  Jordan.  And  were  baptized  of  him 
in  Jordan,  confessing  their  sins." 

But  this  bright  "morning  star"  soon  faded  away  be- 
fore the  rising  splendor  of  the  "  glorious  sun  of  right- 
eousness," who  spake  as  never  man  spake,  and  suffered 
as  never  man  suffered,  and  died  as  never  man  died,  and 
rose  as  never  man  rose ;  and  forty  days  after  his  resur- 
rection, led  his  disciples  out  as  far  as  to  Bethany,  where 
he  uttered  his  great  commission :  "  Go  ye  into  all  the 
world  and  preach  the  Gospel  to  every  creature ;  he  that 
believeth  and  is  baptized  shall  be  saved,  and  he  that  be- 
lieveth  not  shall  be  damned." 

"  He  spake  and  light  shone  round  his  head, 
On  a  bright  cloud  to  heaven  he  rode  ; 
They  to  the  farthest  nations  spread 
The  faith  of  their  ascending  Lord." 

2.  The  great  dignity  and  honor  of  the  ministerial 
office  is  shadowed  forth  by  the  many  names  and  appella- 
tions by  which  it  is  designated  in  Holy  Scripture. 
There  is  not  an  honorable  epithet  or  title  applied  to  oc- 
cupations of  distinction  among  men  which  is  not  used 
to  illustrate  the  office  of  the  ministry.  Is  the  Church 
'represented  in  Scripture  under  the  similitude  of  a  vine- 
yard, ministers  are  the  laborers  toiling  in  its  culture. 


76         THE  DIGNITY  OF  THE  MINISTERIAL  OFFICE. 

Is  the  cliiircli  called  a  city,  ministers  are  the  watchmen 
stationed  on  its  walls,  to  descry  danger  from  afar  and 
sound  the  alarm.  Is  the  Church  a  sheep  fold,  they  are 
the  shepherds,  guarding  and  feeding  the  flock.  Is  she 
a  building,  rising  in  fair  proportions,  eventually  to  be 
polished  after  the  similitude  of  a  palace,  they  are  the 
builders  rearing  the  gigantic  and  beauteous  structure. 
Is  Zion  an  army  with  banners,  they  are  the  standard- 
bearers.  Is  this  world  a  revolted  province  of  God's  em- 
pire, they  are  the  ambassadors,  sent  forth  to  adjust  the 
claims  of  heaven's  court  and  beseech  men,  in  Christ's 
stead,  to  become  reconciled  to  God.  Is  the  Church  on 
earth  an  object  upon  which  the  ascending  Saviour 
wishes  to  bestow  the  richest  boon,  ministers  are  the  pre- 
cious donation.  "  Wherefore  when  he  ascended  up  on 
high,  he  led  captivity  captive,  and  gave  gifts  unto  men. 
And  he  gave  some,  apostles ;  and  some,  prophets ;  and 
some,  evangelists ;  and  some,  pastors  and  teachers ;  for 
the  perfecting  of  the  saints,  for  the  work  of  the  minis- 
try, for  the  edifying  of  the  body  of  Christ :  till  we  all 
come  in  the  unity  of  the  faith,  and  of  the  knowledge  of 
the  Son  of  God,  unto  a  perfect  man,  unto  the  measure 
of  the  stature  of  the  fulness  of  Christ."  Would  the  en- 
raptured Isaiah  depict  the  future  glories  of  the  universal 
church,  ministers  form  a  prominent  object  in  the  glow- 
ing picture :  "How  beautiful  upon  the  mountains  are 
the  feet  of  him  that  bringeth  good  tidings,  that  pub- 
lisheth  peace ;  that  bringeth  good  tidings  of  good,  that 
publisheth  salvation ;  that  saith  unto  Zion,  Thy  God 
reigneth!  Thy  watchmen  shall  lift  up  the  voice;  with 
the  voice  together  shall  they  sing ;  for  they  shall  see  eye 
to  eye,  when  the  Lord  shall  bring  again  Zion." 

3.  The  ministerial  office  assumes  an  aspect  of  vast 
dignity  because  of  its  rich  fruits — its  countless  and 
transcendent  blessings.     Pen  cannot  recount,  tongue 


THE  DIGNITY  OF  THE  MDsISTERLVL  OFFICE.  77 

cannot  utter,  history  will  never  adequately  record  the 
blessings  which  accompany  and  flow  from  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  Gospel  ministry — diffusing  themselves 
in  ten  thousand  channels,  over  the  Church  and  the 
world,  over  religion  and  science,  over  refinement  and 
laws.  Since  the  days  of  Christ  and  his  inspired  apos- 
tles, the  voice  of  the  living  preaclier  has  been  the  method 
the  most  conspicuous  and  the  most  honored  of  God  in 
propagating  the  truth  and  conserving  the  world.  For 
ever  since  that  period,  the  chief  function  of  the  ministry 
consists  in  preaching,  accompanied  with  prayer  and  the 
administration  of  the  ordinances.  There  are  no  suc- 
cessors of  the  Jewish  priests — there  are  no  successors  of 
the  twelve  apostles.  The  ministry  now  hath  no  sacer- 
dotal or  apostolic  character.  There  are  no  lords  over 
God's  heritage.  All  God's  ministers  are  equal.  All  are 
bishops,  and  all  are  brethren ;  and  Christ  alone  is  Head, 
and  Christ  alone  is  King.  And  in  compensation  for  the 
withdrawal  from  the  world  of  miraculous  gifts,  pro- 
phetic tongues,  apostolic  pens,  and  angels'  visits,  God 
has  concentrated  the  essence  of  all  former  honors  and 
offices  upon  the  Christian  ministy.  Yea,  there  are  clear 
intimations  in  Holy  Scripture  of  God's  design  to  cir- 
cumscribe great  spiritual  blessings  within  its  immediate 
range.  "  How,  then  (saith  the  apostle),  shall  they  call 
on  him  in  whom  they  have  not  believed;  and  how  shall 
they  believe  in  him  of  whom  they  have  not  heard;  and 
how  shall  they  hear  without  a  preacher;  and  how  shall 
they  preach  except  they  be  sent."  "  So  faith  cometh 
by  hearing,  and  hearing  by  the  word  of  God."  As  true 
as  God  does  not  warm  men  without  fire,  nor  nourish 
men  without  food,  nor  drown  men  without  water,  just 
"so  sure  does  he  not  usually  convert  men  without  preach- 
ing. Though  there  ever  have  been,  and  ever  will  be, 
cases  of  sincere  conversion  without  the  public  preaching 


78         THE   DIGNITY   OF  THE  MINISTERIAL  OFFICE. 

of  the  Gospel,  yet  they  are  of  rare  occurrence — excep- 
tions to  God's  great  rule.     "  The  pulpit 

"  Must  stand  acknowledged  while  the  world  shall  stand, 
The  most  important  and  effectual  guard, 
Support  and  ornament  of  virtue's  cause." 

What  myriads  of  sacred  influences  and  associations 
cluster  around  the  pulpit,  calculated  to  enhance  its  im- 
portance as  a  7noral  poiver.  There  is  a  vast  element  for 
good  in  having  a  class  of  men  expressly  set  apart  to 
instruct  the  people  in  holy  things — with  minds  stored 
with  learning — with  hearts  warm  with  love — with  "lips 
eloquent  with  truth — whose  themes  are  divine — whose 
topics  are  the  whole  range  of  Bible  facts — and  whose 
arguments  and  motives  are  drawn  from  life  and  from 
death,  from  time  and  eternity.  Look  also  at  the  influ- 
ence of  numbers,  the  power  of  sympathy,  the  expression 
of  the  human  eye,  the  tones  of  the  human  voice,  the 
whole  force  and  magnetic  power  of  human  eloquence, 
calculated  to  awe,  to  thrill,  to  convince.  Who  can  fully 
estimate  the  amount  of  knowledge  communicated  by 
the  weekly  ministrations  of  the  Sanctuary,  to  a  people 
many  of  whom  are  thoughtless  and  would  never  other- 
wise pause  and  reflect,  and  many  are  defective  in  educa- 
tion and  incompetent  to  comprehend  without  a  teacher  ? 
Who  can  recount  the  blessings  to  neighborhoods  and 
villages  in  the  instruction  given,  the  impressions  pro- 
duced, the  vices  restrained,  the  public  order  upheld,  and 
the  peace,  harmony,  and  friendships  created  by  a  regu- 
lar ministry  ?  And,  on  the  other  hand,  what  a  melan- 
choly scene  presents  itself  to  the  eye,  where  there  is 
no  Christian  ministry — in  Sabbaths  desecrated,  public 
morals  lowered,  youth  unrestrained,  the  Bible  unread,* 
and  God  and  eternity  forgotten — vice  stalking  abroad 
unrebuked,  and  the  large  mass  grasping  after  wealth  and. 


THE  DIGNITY  OF  THE  MINISTERIAL  OFFICE.          79 

pleasure,  and  no  one  to  raise  his  voice  and  warn  them 
to  fiee  from  the  wrath  to  come. 

And  Oh,  wlien  we  take  a  higher  range — when  we  look 
upon  the  ministry  as  chiefly  designed  to  proclaim  to 
men  a  crucified  Saviour,  and  qualify  them  for  heaven, 
how  the  office  swells  in  honor  and  dignity.  And  next 
to  Jesus,  the  Lamb  in  the  midst  of  the  throne,  the  chief 
objects  of  interest  and  attraction  in  the  upper  state,  will 
be  those  ministers  of  the  Gospel,  who  have  converted 
the  largest  number  of  souls  to  God.  For  "they  that 
turn  many  to  righteousness,  shall  shine  as  the  stars 
forever  and  ever."  Raphael  took  a  piece  of  canvas,  of 
which  the  maker  thought  nothing,  and  the  vendor 
thought  nothing,  and  threw  upon  it  his  own  immortal 
colors,  and  has  made  it  live  forever  in  the  galleries  of 
Europe.  So  a  minister  of  the  Gospel  takes  a- human 
heart,  for  which  the  possessor  cares  but  little,  and  re- 
traces upon  it  the  lineaments  of  God's  own  image,  to  be 
exhibited  forever  in  the  galleries  of  heaven,  as  a  trophy 
of  redeeming  grace. 

Tui-n  for  a  moment  more  to  earth,  and  look  at  the 
temporal  achievements  of  the  ministry.  What  hath 
God  wrought  by  preaching  ?  The  Roman  empire  was 
Christianized  by  preaching — the  preaching  of  Paul  and 
his  noble  companions.  And  though  the  "  weapons  of 
their  warfare  were  not  carnal,  yet  they  were  mighty 
through  God,  to  the  pulling  down  of  strongholds." 
There  sat  Paganism  at  the  capital,  enthroned  above  the 
heads  of  kings  and  emperors — clad  in  all  her  dazzling 
splendor — with  her  magnificent  temples — her  gorgeous 
train  of  priests — her  holy  vestal  virgins — her  learned 
interpreters  of  the  sibylline  oracles— her  gladiatorial 
shouts — her  vast  amphitheatres,  some  of  which  could 
contain  tens  of  thousands  of  spectators.  But  Paul 
preached,  and  institutions  venerable  by  ages   tottered 


80         THE  DIGNITY  OF  THE  MINISTERIAL  OFFICE. 

and  fell.  The  glorious  Eeformation  was  chiefly  brought 
about  by  preachiiig — the  preaching  of  Luther.  The 
Eepublic  of  Geneva,  after  which  our  own  Republic  was 
fashioned,  was  produced  hj preaching,  the  preaching  of 
Calvin.  The  sturdy  national  character  of  Scotland  was 
formed  chiefly  by  the  preaching  of  men  like  John  Knox, 
of  whom  at  his  grave  it  was  said,  "  There  lies  one  who 
never  feared  the  face  of  men."  The  present  quiet  of 
every  New  England  village  was  laid  far  back  in  the 
preaching  of  the  Stoddards,  and  the  Mathers,  and  the 
Edwardses.  The  present  national  existence  of  the  Samd- 
wich  Islands,  whose  people  forty  years  ago  were  wild 
cannibals,  is  the  fruit  of  the*  preaching  of  American 
missionaries.  The  foundations  of  the  American  Union 
were  laid  in  the  labors  and  toils  of  such  men  as  George 
Fox,  the  Quaker,  and  John  Wesley,  the  Methodist, 
and  George  Whitfield,  the  Calvinist,  who  traveled  and 
preached  from  Massachusetts  to  Georgia,  and  aided 
the  people  to  form  religious  and  ecclesiastical  affinities, 
before  the  cry  to  arms  rung  out  from  old  Faneuil 
Hall.  Civil  liberty,  in  the  days  of  our  fathers,  was 
perched  upon  the  standard  of  the  cross,  and  will  al- 
ways visit  every  land  where  that  standard  is  unfurled. 
And  the  conversion  of  the  nations  to  God,  and  the  final 
and  universal  triumphs  of  the  Gospel,  will  be  effected 
mainly  by  the  same  heaven-ordained  and  heaven-owned 
method.  For  the  Lord  shall  give  the  word ;  great  shall 
be  the  army  of  the  publishers.  "  For  an  angel  shall  be 
seen,  flying  through  the  clouds  of  heaven,  having  the 
everlasting  Gospel  to  preach  to  every  nation."  And  as 
that  blessed  Gospel  shall  begin  to  walk  abroad  on  its 
last  triumph,  thrones  shall  tremble,  .oracles  shall  grow 
dumb,  and  the  brows  of  tyrants  shall  turn  white  as 
aslies.  Then  cities  and  palaces  shall  fling  wide  their 
gates  at  her  advancing  tread,  and  the  great  mass  of 


THE  DIGNITY  OF  THE  MINISTERLyi.  OFFICE.          81 

suffering,  sinful  men  shall  bow  their  adoring  heads  as 
her  sweet  voice  sliall  fall  upon  their  ear. 

1.  In  view  of  all  that  has  been  said,  it  is  expedient 
that  there  should  be  a  much  more  exalted  appreciation 
of  the  ministerial  office.  It  should  be  magnified  above 
all  other  callings.  Is  lie  deemed  great  who  founds  em- 
pires, gains  victories,  amasses  wealth,  or  glitters  in  stars 
and  coronets — whose  praises  live  in  history,  and  whose 
name  is  engraven  on  marble  ?  How  much  more  hon- 
orable, and  how  much  more  deserving  of  gratitude, 
s]?ould  they  be  deemed  who  ameliorate  the  hearts  of 
men,  subdue  passions,  found  churches,  form  public 
morals,  and  produce  effects  on  character  and  conduct 
that  shall  last  forever. 

2.  AVe  also  see,  from  this  subject,  the  propriety  of  set- 
ting apart  a  distinct  class  of  men  to  the  ministerial  work. 
If  the  ministry  be  of  divine  appointment,  honored  of 
God,  magnified  of  Paul,  filled  by  Christ,  surely  not 
every  one  is  competent  to  enter  it,  and  none  should 
enter  upon  it,  but  he  that  is  "  called  of  God,  as  Avas 
Aaron" — called  by  the  Church,  called  by  his  own  breth- 
ren, called  by  the  Spirit,  called  by  his  own  heart,  glow- 
ing with  love  for  souls,  and  appropriating  the  words  of 
the  Apostle,  "  for  necessity  is  laid  upon  me,  yea,  woe  is 
me  if  I  preach  not  the  Gospel."  And  when  such  a  one 
has  assumed  the  ministry,  he  should  never  desert  it.  He 
should  wear  out  in  it,  and  become  every  day  more  and 
more  a  centre  of  influence,  and  a  saver  of  life  unto  life 
to  immortal  souls.  Alas  for  those  who  do  not  thus 
magnify  their  office.  ^Yoe  to  those  who  degrade  the 
ministry  — detract  from  its  heavenly  dignity  by  pervert- 
ing it  to  secular  purposes,  and  "steal  the  livery  of  the 
court  of  heaven  to  serve  the  devil  in."  Among  such  we 
include  sectarian  preachers,  poetical  preachers,  sensa- 
tional preachers,  political  preachers,  fanatical  preachers. 


82         THE   DIGNITY   OF  THE  MINISTERIAL  OFFICE. 

3.  Contemplate  the  elevated  position  of  onr  Church 
in  its  high  appreciation  of  the  dignity  and  sacredness 
of  the  office,  in  permitting  none  to  enter  it  but  men  of 
piety  and  learning,  that  the  ark  of  the  Lord  be  not  car- 
ried by  inefficient  or  unholy  hands.  Hence  the  honor- 
able distinction  of  our  Zion  in  her  zeal  in  educating  the 
young,  in  founding  schools  and  colleges,  and  furnishing 
the  world  with  a  learned  ministry. 

4.  You  here  learn  the  duty  of  the  people  to  provide 
for  the  temporal  wants  of  the  ministry.  If  we  minister 
to  you  in  spiritual  things,  is  it  not  a  small  matter  that 
you  should  contribute  to  us  of  your  temporal  things? 
Is  not  the  laborer  worthy  of  his  hire  ?  Should  not  they 
who  serve  at  the  altar,  live  of  the  altar  ?  And  is  not 
that  church  most  criminally  remiss  in  her  duty  to 
herself  and  her  head,  which  expects  of  her  ministry 
constant  services  and  elevated  mental  toil,  but  which 
extends  to  them  a  scanty  and  niggard  support,  expect- 
ing men  to  be  given  to  hospitality  and  devoted  to  study, 
as  well  as  punctual  in  meeting  their  pecuniary  obliga- 
tions, but  whose  worldly  maintenance  is  inadequate  or 
paid  with  reluctance. 

5.  The  views  which  we  have  advanced  respecting  the 
ministry,  so  far  from  begetting  in  the  mind  feelings  of 
vain  glory,  are  calulated  to  instill  the  deepest  humility. 
When  we  recount  our  arduous  duties,  our  severe  trials, 
and  our  fearful  responsibilities,  we  would  cry  out  with 
the  Apostle :  "  Who  is  sufficient  for  these  things  ?  "  Oh, 
brethren,  "  we  are  wdtli  you  in  weakness,  and  in  fear, 
and  in  much  trembling."  And  we  Avould  appeal  to  you 
in  the  language  of  the  same  Apostle,  "  Brethren,  pray 
for  us."  Nothing  will  so  much  relieve  us,  nothing  will 
so  much  encourage  us,  as  your  fervent  prayers.  For  a 
prayerless  people  will  always  have  a  desponding  minis- 
try ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  performance  of  this 


THE  DIGNITY  OF  THE  MINISTEKIAL  OFFICE.  83 

duty  will  lead  to  the  performance  of  every  other.  They 
who  pray  for  their  pastor  will  necessarily  love  him ;  they 
will  contribute  to  his  worldly  support;  they  will  be 
careful  of  his  reputation ;  they  will  punctually  wait  on 
his  ministry;  they  will  receive  with  meekness  the  word 
of  God  from  his  lips,  will  grow  up  with  him  as  heirs  of 
the  grace  of  life,  and  finally  enter  with  him  into  the 
same  eternal  j.oy. 


HISTORY 

or  THE 

PEESBYTERIAISr    CHURCH, 

HOUSTON,  TEXAS. 


This  cliarcli  was  organized  on  tlie  31st  of  March, 
1839,  in  the  Senate  Chamber  of  the  Congress  of  the 
Eepublic  of  Texas,  by  Rev.  William  Y.  Allen,  after  a 
sermon  preached  by  him  from  Psalm  cxxii.,  verse  6: 
"Pray  for  the  peace  of  Jerusalem,  they  shall  prosper 
that  love  thee." 

The  following  preamble  and  resolutions  were  adopted 
as  the  basis  of  organization,  viz. : 

"For  the  purpose  of  promoting  Divine  worship,  and  our 
mutual  edification  in  the  knowledge  and  practice  of  piety,  we, 
whose  names  are  hereunto  subscribed,  do  agree  to  associate  our- 
selves together  as  a  Presbyterian  Church  upon  the  following 
principles,  viz.  : 

"  1st.  We  believe  the  Scriptures  of  the  Old  and  New  Testa- 
ments to  be  the  Word  of  God,  the  only  infallible  rule  of  faith 
and  practice. 

"  2d.  We  sincerely  adopt  the  Confession  of  Faith  of  the  Pres- 
byterian Church  in  the  United  States  of  America  as  containing 
the  system  of  doctrine  taught  in  the  Holy  Scriptures, 

"  3d.  We  adopt  the  form  of  Government  and  Directory  for 
worship  as  laid  down  in  the  Constitution  of  the  Presbyterian 
Church  in  the  United  States  of  America." 

To  the  above  agreement  the  following  names  were  appended; 
A.  B.  Shelby,  Marian  Shelby, 

J.  Wilson  Copes,  James  Bailey, 

James  Burke,  Sarah  Woodward, 

Isabella  R.  Parker,  Jennett  Smith, 

Edwin  Belden,  Harris  G.  Avery, 

Sophia  B.  Hodge. 


rRESBYTERIAN   CHURCH,   HOUSTON,   TEXAS.  85 

The  organization  was  completed  by  the  election  of 
James  Burke  to  the  office  of  Ruling  Elder. 

On  the  14th  of  April,  1839,  the  sacrament  of  the 
Lord's  Supper  was  administered  to  twenty-five  com- 
municants. This  was  the  first  celebration  of  this  sacra- 
ment in  Houston,  most  probably  the  first  in  Texas. 

After  organizing  the  church.  Rev.  W.  Y.  Allen  con- 
tinued to  minister  to  it  until  the  spring  of  1842,  when 
he  resigned  and  returned  to  Kentucky,  and  was  suc- 
ceeded by 

REV.   J.   M.   ATKINSOJ^, 

then  on  a  visit  to  Texas.  lie  received  a  unanimous 
call  to  become  pastor  of  the  church.  Finding  his 
health  unfitted  him  for  the  labors  of  the  office,  he  de- 
clined the  call,  and  left  the  State  early  in  1843,  having 
served  the  church  about  one  year. 

In  the  spring  of  1843,  application  was  made  to  the 
Board  of  Foreign  Missions  of  the  Presbyterian  Church, 
in  the  United  States,  which  commissioned  the  Eev.  J. 
W.  Miller  as  a  missionary  to  this  field. 

REV.  J.  W.  MILLER 

arrived  December,  1844,  and  entered  on  the  discharge 
of  his  duties.  He  received  a  unanimous  call  to  the  pas- 
torate, and  was  installed  November  21, 1847.  His  health 
failing,  he  resigned  the  charge  in  January,  1850,  having 
been  five  years  over  the  congregation,  during  which  time 
seventy  members  were  admitted  to  the  church. 

REV.  L.  S.  GIBSON", 

being  in  the  city,  received  a  unanimous  call  from  the 
church  and  congregation.  His  health  failed  under  two 
severe  bilious  attacks,  in  1850  and  1851,  which  caused 
him  to  cease  preaching.    He  died  in  Philadelphia,  in 


86  HISTOKY   OF  THE 

May,  1853,  while  in  attendance  on  the  General  Assem- 
bly, as  commissioner  from  the  presbytery  of  Brazos. 

On  December  31,  1851,  an  invitation  to  supply  the 
pulpit  for  one  year,  was  made  to 

REV.  ALEX.  FAIRBAIRl^. 

In  1853,  he  received  a  call  for  his  services  as  pastor, 
and  was  installed  in  February  of  that  year.  He  resigned 
his  charge  in  December,  1854,  and  moved  to  Huntsville. 

REY.  JEROME  TWICHELL 

was  installed  as  pastor  of  the  church  in  April,  1855,  and 
was  lost  on  the  "Nautilus,"  in  the  Gulf,  during  the 
storm  of  August  10,  1856. 

REV.  R.  H.  BYERS 

was  called  on  June  20,  1857,  and  entered  on  his  minis- 
tration in  the  following  September. 

In  November,  1859,  he  accepted  the  financial  agency 
of  Austin  College,  by  which  the  pulpit  again  became 
vacant.    He  was  succeeded  by 

REV.  THOS.  CASTLETOiq", 

called  in  April,  1860,  and  installed  April,  1861;  he  filled 
the  pulpit  during  the  greater  part  of  the  war. 

On  October  .25,  1862,  the  church,  a  frame  building, 
fronting  on  Main-street,  was  destroyed  by  fire.  Under 
the  exertions  of  Mr.  Castleton,  plans  were  speedily  ma- 
tured to  replace  it  by  a  brick  structure,  which  he  was 
not  permitted  to  see  completed.  In  October,  1864,  his 
relations  with  the  church  were  dissolved  by  presbytery. 
In  1865 — with  his  wife — he  embarked  on  the  "  Shibbo- 
leth." for  New  York,  and  is  supposed  to  have  been  lost 
at  sea,  as  that  vessel  was  not  heard  of  any  more  after 
leaving  Galveston. 


PRESBYTERIAN   CHURCH,   HOUSTON,   TEXAS.  87 

After  the  fire,  worship  was  conducted  in  the  Court 
House,  until  it  was  taken  for  barracks,  when  Turner's 
Hall  was  obtained  ])y 

REV.  J.  R.  HUTCHISON,  D.  D., 

who  preached  every  Sabbath  morning  until  June,  1865, 
when  the  hall  liad  to  be  given  up. 

The  New  Building  was  dedicated  on  Sabbath,  July 
7,  18G7,  by  Rev.  R.  H.  Byers,  D.  D.,  assisted  by  Rev.  S. 
A.  King  and  Mr.  Moore.     On  April  1,  18G8, 

REV.  WM.  SOMERVILLE 

was  invited  to  supply  the  pulpit  one  year,  when  the 
regular  services  of  the  church,  after  a  long  interruption, 
were  resumed.  He  was  installed  pastor  of  the  church 
in  May,  1869,  and  resigned  in  October,  1870.  On  Sep- 
tember, 1871, 

REV.  JNO.  J.  READ, 

a  licentiate  of  the  presbytery  of  Mississippi,  received  the 
unanimous  call  of  the  church  and  congregation  to  be- 
come pastor  thereof,  having  accepted  the  same,  he  was 
dismissed  to  the  care  of  the  presbytery  of  Brazos. 

After  having  sustained  a  satisfactory  examination,  the 
presbytery  proceeded  on  Sabbath,  December  10,  to  or- 
dain him  to  the  full  work  of  the  Gospel  ministry,  the 
Moderator,  Rev.  R.  F.  Bunting,  D.D.,  presiding.  The 
Rev.  J.  R.  Hutchison,  D.D.,  was  appointed  to  preach  the 
Ordination  Sermon ;  Rev.  J.  W.  Miller,  D.  D.,  to  deliver 
a  charge  to  the  congregation,  and  Rev.  R.  F.  Bunting, 
D.  D.,  a  charge  to  the  pastor. 


THE    SABBATH. 

Preached  at  Hempstead,  Texas,  October,  1869. 


^^ Remember  the  Sahhath  day  to  keep  it  holy" — Exo- 
dus 20  :  8.  The  observance  of  the  Sabbath  is  essential 
to  the  spread  of  Christianity,  and  to  its  transmission 
from  one  age  to  another.  The  Sabbath  is  the  centre  of 
the  system,  the  keystone  of  the  arch.  Without  it,  the 
Gospel  would  have  no  opportunity  of  exerting  its  benign 
influences  upon  the  masses,  of  giving  forth,  in  public 
assemblies,  its  loud  and  solemn  utterances  of  warning 
and  instruction.  For  how  could  mankind  retain  a 
knowledge  of  the  great  doctrines  of  the  Cross,  unless 
they  were  plainly  and  publicly  taught  them  ?  And  how 
could  they  be  publicly  taught  them,  unless  there  were  a 
specific  day  on  which,  by  common  consent,  they  might 
assemble  for  the  purpose  ? 

The  necessity  and  importance,  therefore,  of  the  Sab- 
bath, as  a  day  of  religious  instruction  and  meditation, 
the  honor  which  it  confers  on  God,  the  peace  and  quiet 
which  it  brings  to  man,  the  rest  it  imparts  to  the  body, 
the  solemn  pause  it  secures  to  all  the  secularities  of  life 
— these,  with  other  most  weighty  considerations,  com- 
bine in  enforcing  the  command  of  the  Decalogue,  "Re- 
member the  Sabbath  da}^,  to  keep  it  holy." 

It  has,  however,  been  contended  by  some  that  the 
Sabbath  day  is  a  Jewish  institution,  and  being  merely 
national  and  ceremonial  in  its  character,  is  not  of  per- 
petual and  universal   obligation.     But  can   it  not  be 


THE   SABBATH.  89 

shown  that  the  Sabbath  was  instituted  long  before  the 
Jewish  nation  existed,  and  although  incorporated  into 
the  civil  and  ecclesiastical  polity  of  that  people,  it  never 
exclusively  belonged  to  them,  but  is  binding,  in  all  its 
force,  upon  the  people  of  every  country  and  every  age? 

Our  first  argument  is  drawn  from  its  great  antiquity. 
The  Sabbath  was  instituted  two  thousand  years  before 
the  Jewish  nation  existed.  It  is  as  old  as  thef  creation. 
It  was  given  by  God  to  the  first  man,  Adam.  It  is  then 
binding  on  us ;  because  Adam  was  a  public  character, 
and  acted  in  a  public  capacity.  Adam  was  not  merely 
our  great  progenitor;  he  was  also  our  federal  head  and 
representative.  Adam  negotiated  with  the  court  of 
heaven,  not  only  for  himself,  but  for  all  his  posterity. 
This  is  one  of  the  plainest  doctrines  of  the  Bible.  Con- 
sequently, according  to  the  laws  of  imputation  and 
representation,  all  Adam's  acts  become  our  acts,  all 
Adam's  institutions  become  our  institutions.  If,  then, 
the  institution  of  the  Sabbath  was  observed  by  Adam, 
it  must  be  observed  by  us,  for  the  same  reason  that  we 
observe  the  institution  of  marriage. 

Where,  then,  is  the  evidence  that  the  Sabbath  was 
known  to  our  great  representative  ?  It  i^  found  in  the 
book  of  Genesis,  second  chapter,  second  and  third  verses : 
"  On  the  seventh  day  God  ended  His  work  which  He  had 
made,  and  He  rested  on  the  seventh  day  from  all  His 
work  which  He  had  made.  And  God  blessed  the  seventh 
day  and  sanctified  it,  because  that  on  it  He  had  rested 
from  all  His  Avork  which  God  created  and  made."  Adam 
was  created  on  the  sixth  day;  the  next  day  was  the 
sacred  day  of  rest.  Hence  the  first  rising  sun  which 
Adam  ever  saw,  ushered  in  the  hallowed  rest  of  the 
new-born  Sabbath. 

But  we  have  other  evidence  that  the  Sabbath  is  as  old 
as  the  creation.     We  find  traces  of  its  existence  and  * 


90  THE  SABBATH. 

partial  observance  in  the  history  of  every  nation  of 
antiquity,  both  Jewish  and  heathen.  Begin  Avith  the 
history  of  the  Jews  in  the  wilderness,  as  they  were  jour- 
neying from  Egypt  to  Palestine,  and  before  they  reached 
Mount  Sinai.  Observe  how  regularly  they  abstained 
from  the  gathering  of  manna,  at  the  close  of  every  sixth 
day,  in  order  that  they  might  rest  on  the  seventh. 
Mark  how  familiarly  Moses  refers  to  the  Sabbath  in  the 
giving  of  the  ten  commandments.  He  there  takes  for 
granted  that  the  Jews  knew  of  the  Sabbath  before  the 
giving  of  the  law  on  Sinai.  For  he  says,  " Rememher 
the  Sabbath,"  implying  that  it  had  been  previously 
known. 

Now  go  further  back  into  the  history  of  the  Jews, 
and  you  will  still  find  proofs  of  the  existence  of  the  Sab- 
bath. Examine  the  history  of  Job,  forty  years  previous 
to  the  giving  of  the  law,  and  you  will  find  familiar  men- 
tion of  the  Sabbath.  Go  two  hundred  and  fifty  years 
further  back,  to  the  time  of  Jacob,  and  you  will  observe 
that  he  observed  the  Sabbath.  Go  one  hundred  and 
fifty  years  further  back,  to  the  time  of  Abraham,  and 
you  will  find  that  he  knew  the  Sabbath.  Then  go  back 
four  hundred  and  fifty  years  further,  to  the  time  of 
Noah,  and  you  will  perceive  that  he  also  observed  the 
Sabbath.  In  this  day,  the  Sabbath  can  be  traced  back 
to  Adam. 

Now  turn  from  the  history  of  the  Jews  to  the  history 
of  early  heathen  nations,  and  go  back  until  all  history 
is  lost  in  fable  or  is  merged  in  the  Mosaic  narrative. 
The  Sabbath  is  mentioned  by  Homer,  the  father  of 
Greek  poetry.  He  says,  "  The  seventh  day  is  the  day 
on  which  all  things  were  finished."  It  is  referred  to  by 
Linens,  another  early  Grecian  writer,  who  says,  "  The 
seventh  day  is  an  auspicious  day,  for  it  is  the  birthday 
of  all  things."    It  is  mentioned  by  Philo,  an  early 


THE   SABBATH.  91 

Egyptian  writer.  He  asserts  that  "the  Sabbath  is  a 
festival,  not  peenliar  to  any  one  country,  but  is  common 
to  all  the  world."  Josephus,  the  Jewish  historian,  tells 
us  tliat  in  his  day  ^' there  was  no  city,  either  of  Greeks 
or  barbarians,  where  the  obligation  of  the  Sabbath  was 
not  known."  And  the  learned  Grotius  declares  "  that 
the  memory  of  the  creation  being  performed  in  the 
seven  days,  was  preserved  not  only  among  the  Greeks 
and  Italians,  but  also  among  the  Celts  and  Indians,  all 
of  whom  divided  their  time  into  weeks."  Thus  we  find 
traces  of  the  Sabbath  among  all  the  nations  of  antiquity. 

And  now  the  important  question  presents  itself: 
How  did  those  early  heathen  nations  acquire  their 
knowledge  of  the  Sabbath  ?  Whence  conld  have  arisen 
this  universal  practice  of  dividing  time  into  weeks,  and 
of  showing  such  marked  deference  to  the  seventh  day  ? 
How  happened  it  that  people  inhabiting  different  coun- 
tries, speaking  different  languages,  and  adhering  to 
different  religions,  all  agree  in  this  one  practice  ?  Would 
their  notions  respecting  astronomy  have  led  them  to 
such  a  division  of  time  ?  No ;  their  astronomical  views 
would  have  led  them  to  divide  their  time  into  months 
and  days  and  years,  but  would  never  have  suggested  to 
them  a  division  of  time  into  weeks.  Weeks  are  unnat- 
ural divisions  of  time,  suggested  by  no  revolutions  of 
the  heavenly  bodies.  Nor  did  the  ancient  heathen  de- 
rive their  knowledge  of  weeks  from  the  Jews.  For 
many  of  these  nations  existed  before  the  Jews  were  em- 
bodied into  a  nation.  Some  of  them  never  heard  of  the 
Jews,  and  some  entertained  for  Jewish  customs  a  very 
strong  abhorrence. 

The  only  method,  then,  of  accounting  for  the  early 
and  universal  practice  of  dividing  time  into  weeks,  is 
that  it  was  communicated  by  God  to  Adam  in  Paradise, 
as  was  the  rite  of  marriage,  handed  down  by  tradition 


92  THE  SABBATH. 

among  the  antediluvian  patriarchs,  then  scattered,  after 
the  flood,  among  all  the  nations  of  the  earth. 

We  base  the  perpetual  obligation  of  the  Sabbath,  not 
merely  upon  its  institution  in  Paradise,  its  recognition 
among  all  the  nations  of  antiquity,  and  its  incorpora- 
tion into  the  Jewish  economy,  but  mainly  on  the  fact 
of  its  constituting  a  prominent  part  of  the  ten  com- 
mandments. Hence,  all  who  admit  the  universal  and 
perpetual  obligation  of  the  Decalogue,  must  admit  the 
equally  binding  nature  of  the  Sabbath. 

For  if  the  Sabbath  w^as  merely  ceremonial,  serving  a 
temporary  purpose,  and  then  passing  away,  like  other 
temporary  rites  of  the  old  dis2:)ensation,  why  should  it 
occupy  such  a  prominent  place  in  that  code  of  laws 
designed  by  God  to  be  binding  on  the  whole  human 
race?  Why  is  it  found  there  at  all?  AYhy  select  it 
from  the  number  of  the  merely  temporary  ordinances 
of  the  Mosaic  economy,  and  place  it  so  conspicuously 
in  the  very  centre  of  that  eternal  compendium  of  moral 
duties,  given  for  the  government  of  the  whole  world? 
The  fact  of  its  being  found  where  it  is  decides  the  ques- 
tion.- And  there  is  something  in  the  peculiar  position 
w^hich  this  command  occupies  in  the  Decalogue,  and  the 
language  in  which  it  is  couched,  w^hich  renders  it  the 
most  remarkable  precept  of  the  entire  ten.  It  is  the 
longest  commandment.  It  is  the  most  minute  and 
specific  in  its  language,  carefully  enumerating  a  large 
number  of  particulars.  It  is  located  in  the  very  heart 
of  the  code,  between  the  two  tables  of  the  law — the 
first  embracing  our  duties  to  God,  the  second  our  duties 
to  man.  And  because  this  precept  partakes  of  the 
nature  of  both  tables,  and  enjoins  duties  to  both  God 
and  man,  it  is  placed  hetween  both.  It  is  the  golden 
dasp  which  binds  the  two  tables  together;  and  whoever 
would  take  it  away,  breaks  the  clasp  and   mars  the 


THE  SABBATH.  93 

whole.  For  he  robs  God  of  his  worship  and  man  of  his 
rest.  The  fact,  then,  of  the  law  of  the  Sabbath  being 
found  in  the  Decalogue,  settles  the  question  under  dis- 
cussion. And  mankind  have  no  more  riglit  to  violate 
or  ignore  its  requirements,  than  they  liave  to  set  aside 
the  law  respecting  idolatry,  or  murder,  or  theft,  or  filial 
insubordination,  or  conjugal  infidelity. 

Another  weighty  argument  for  the  obligation  of  the 
Sabbath,  is  derived  from  considering  the  great  design 
for  which  it  was  originally  instituted.  What  was  that 
design  ?  It  was  of  the  most  beneficial  nature.  It  was 
that  man  might  have  time  to  rest  his  body,  improve  his 
mind,  and  purify  his  heart;  that  he  might  have  sufi&- 
cient  respite  from  physical  toil — sufficient  leisure  to 
worship  God  and  prepare  for  eternity.  Now,  are  not 
these  uses  of  the  Sabbath  just  as  important  now  as  they 
ever  were,  and,  therefore,  is  not  the  observance  of  the 
Sabbath  just  as  necessary  ?  Does  not  man  require  just 
as  much  time  to  rest  his  body,  to  improve  his  mind,  to 
purify  his  heart,  to  serve  his  God,  and  to  prepare  for 
eternity,  as  he  did  in  the  juvenile  ages  ?  It  is  the  tes- 
timony of  anatomists,  that  the  constitutions  of  both 
man  and  beast  absolutely  require  one-seventh  portion 
of  time  for  rest  and  relaxation,  or  else  they  will  soon 
wear  out.  Behold,  then,  the  wonderful  adaptation  of 
this  part  of  the  moral  government  of  God,  for  the  physic- 
al constitution  of  man.  And  if  it  was  necessary  that 
the  ancient  patriarchs  and  the  other  early  inhabitants 
of  the  world,  should  have  one-seventh  portion  of  their 
time  for  rest  and  relaxation,  is  it  not  far  more  impor- 
tant that  we  should  liave  the  same  rest  ?  The  bodies  of 
men  and  beasts  now  are  not  half  so  vigorous  as  they 
were  in  those  early  ages,  and  require  more  rest  and 
more  leisure.  And  the  laborious  employments  of  men 
now  are  far  greater  than  they  were  then.     For  in  those 


94  THE   SABBATH. 

primeval  days  of  simplicity,  men  had  little  else  to  do 
than  to  attend  to  their  peaceful  flocks,  shoot  the  passing 
game,  and  drink  the  crystal  stream.  And  still  they 
needed  a  day  of  rest.  How  mnch  more  do  ice  need  it. 
Now,  arguing  from  the  design  for  which  the  Sabbath 
day  was  originally  instituted,  we  may  safely  argue  the 
necessity  of  its  continuation  and  perpetuity.  Does  the 
cause  for  which  it  was  originally  given  exist  still  ?  then 
should  not  the  day  exist  likewise  ?  So  long  as  man's 
physical  nature  remains  what  it  is;  so  long  as  the  soul 
retains  its  importance  ;  so  long  as  man  shall  sweat  and 
toil  both  in  body  and  mind  the  larger  portion  of  his 
time,  just  so  long  does  he  need  the  merciful  provision 
of  the  Sabbath.  If  Adam  in  Paradise  required  the 
sacred  day  of  rest,  much  more  do  his  sinful  descendants 
need  it.  Not,  then,  as  punishment,  but  as  a  merciful 
condescension  to  our  infirmities,  has  God  said,  "  Ee- 
member  the  Sabbath-day,  to  keep  it  holy." 

The  obligation  to  sanctify  the  Sabbath,  in  addition 
to  what  has  been  set  forth  in  our  former  issues,  rece-ives 
still  greater  force  by  contemplating  the  great  blessings 
and  advantages  resulting  from  its  observance,  and  the 
sad  results  flowing  from  its  desecration.  In  enumerat- 
ing these  blessings  both  to  soul  and  body,  both  to  man 
as  an  individual  and  as  a  member  of  the  social  compact, 
both  as  a  dweller  on  earth  and  as  a  candidate  for  heaven, 
where  shall  we  begin,  and  where  end  ? 

By  keeping  the  Sabbath,  those  who  are  compelled  to 
toil  during  the  week  are  permitted  to  rest  and  recruit 
their  exhausted  energies.  ^len  of  business  and  specu- 
lation are  permitted  to  pause  in  their  career  of  bargain- 
ing and  sales,  have  time  to  reflect  calmly  and  dispas- 
sionately, and  are  thus  often  held  back  from  sudden 
bankruptcy  or  a  too  great  love  of  money.  Those  also 
whose  incessant  occupations  during  the  week  prevent 


THE   S.U3BATH.  95 

them  from  having  access  to  books  find  time  to  read  and 
improve  their  minds.  Attention  can  be  given  to  dress 
and  cleanliness,  and  to  the  polite  civilities  of  friends. 
People  of  all  classes  can  assemble  together  in  the  house 
of  God.  The  high  and  the  low,  the  rich  and  the  poor, 
meet  together  upon  a  perfect  equality.  They  are  taught 
to  feel  that  they  have  a  common  God  and  a  common 
Saviour  ;  a  common  origin — a  common  end.  They  are 
also  instructed  in  these  things  in  the  best  possible  man- 
ner. For  there  is  something  in  the  presence  of  a  crowd, 
in  the  power  of  sympathy,  and  in  the  thrilling  tones  of 
the  human  voice,  which  renders  the  -public  preaching 
of  the  gospel,  and  the  songs  and  prayers  of  the  sanctu- 
ary, the  most  effective  means  of  impressing  divine  truth 
upon  the  hearts  of  men.  They  who  are  unable  to 
read  and  improve  themselves  at  home,  can  listen  to  the 
reading  and  reasoning  of  another.  Impressions  are 
thus  made  which  are  deep  and  lasting.  A  thousand 
conflicting  passions  are  harmonized.  The  affections 
are  weaned  from  earth  and  soar  towards  heaven.  The 
pious  are  edified ;  the  ignorant  are  instructed ;  the 
wicked  are  warned;  the  wavering  are  confirmed.  A 
love  for  morality  and  order  is  diffused  from  heart  to 
heart,  and  from  family  to  family.  The  community  Is 
improved;  intelligence  is  diffused;  crimes  are  dimin- 
ished. A  moral  sentiment  is  spread  all  around,  which 
forms  a  more  effectual  preservation  of  the  liberties  of 
the  country  than  pikes  and  armies.  Oh]  in  view  of 
such  blessings,  who  ought  not  to  love  the  Sabbath  ? 
What  patriot,  what  Christian,  what  lover  of  his  own 
family,  what  friend  of  the  poor,  should  not  sanctify  the 
Sabbath  ? 

But  reverse  this  pleasing  picture  and  view  the  result. 
Abolish  the  Sabbath,  and  you  take  away  every  one  of 
the  blessings  we  have  enumerated,  and  you  substitute  a 


96  THE  SABBATH. 

corresponding  curse.  Abolish  the  Sabbath,  and  you 
give  the  laboring  class  no  stated  time  to  rest,  and  the 
commercial  class  no  regular  period  to  pause  in  their 
career  of  worldliness.  Abolish  the  Sabbath,  and  you 
place  in  its  stead  no  other  effectual  method  of  instruct- 
ing the  ignorant,  of  restraining  the  vicious,  or  of  im- 
proving the  manners  of  the  masses  without  injuring  their 
morals.  In  a  word,  take  away  the  Sabbath,  and  you 
give  us  no  other  method  of  diffusing  the  blessings  of 
Christianity.  And  if  Christianity  be  not  diffused,  vir- 
tue, morality,  and  liberty  must  soon  bid  farewell  to  the 
land.  Nothing  but  the  power  of  the  Gospel  can  purify 
and  save  this  nation.  Nothing  but  this  can  preserve 
us  from  the  effects  of  infidelity,  of  intemperance,  of 
party-strife,  and  national  pride.  Our  general  intelli- 
gence, our  growing  w^ealth,  our  ardent  patriotism,  and 
our  invincible  courage  cannot,  of  themselves,  preserve 
us.  They  did  not  preserve  Greece,  or  Rome,  or  France. 
Hence  nothing  but  the  Sabbath,  as  a  means  of  incul- 
cating our  holy  religion,  can  preserve  the  fair  temple 
of  American  liberty.  Nothing  but  a  phalanx  of  holy 
hearts  clustering  thick  around  the  Sabbath,  can  pre- 
serve us  from  going  down  to  the  gloomy  grave  of 
nations. 

We  haye  had  an  instance  in  modern  times,  of  a  whole 
nation  deliberately  abolishing  the  Sabbath,  and  what 
was  the  result  ?  No  sooner  had  France  blotted  out  this 
moral  sun  from  her  heavens,  than  the  mighty  God  whose 
being  she  denied,  and  whose  worship  she  ignored,  stood 
aloof  and  gave  her  up ;  and  a  scene  of  proscription  and 
assassination  and  crime  ensued,  unparalleled  in  the  an- 
nals of  the  civilized  world.  Every  moral  and  domestic 
tie  was  ruthlessly  torn  asunder.  A  brother's  hand  was 
deeply  imbrued  in  a  brother's  blood.  The  tears  of  the 
lisping  babe,  the  shrieks  of  the  agonized  mother,  and 


THE  SABBATH.  97 

the  frantic  cries  of  hoary  and  decrepit  age,  mingled  with 
the  demoniac  shouts  of  an  infuriated  sokliery,  dragging 
their  victims  to  the  guillotine.  Yea,  says  one,  it  seemed 
as  if  the  nation's  knell  had  tolled,  and  the  whole  world 
was  summoned  to  the  funeral.  In  the  city  of  Paris, 
there  were  in  1803  eight  hundred  and  seven  suicides 
and  murders.  Among  the  criminals  executed,  there 
were  seven  fathers  who  had  poisoned  their  children,  ten 
husbands  wdio  had  murdered  their  wives,  six  wives  who 
had  poisoned  their  husbands — and  fifteen  children  wdio 
had  destroyed  their  parents!  Do  then  the  Infidels  of 
this  land  desire  to  have  the  scenes  of  revolutionary 
France  re-enacted,  let  them  abolish  the  Sabbath,  and 
forthwith,  from  the  vasty  deep  will  come  up  the  demons 
of  blood.  The  Sabbath  is  the  "cord  by  which  God 
holds  up  the  nation  from  the  yawning  rolls  beneath  it." 
AVhile,  then,  one  strand  of  this  cord  after  another  is  cut, 
w^hat  can  prevent,  when  the  last  cord  is  severed,  this 
mighty  nation,  like  the  massive  rock  on  the  mountain's 
clifi",  from  thundering  doAvn  to  ruin.  Give  up  the  Sab- 
bath— blot  out  that  orb  of  day — suspend  its  blessed  at- 
tractions— and  the  reign  of  chaos  and  old  night  will 
return.  The  weaves  of  our  unquiet  sea  will  roll  and 
dash,  shipwrecking  the  hopes  of  patriots  and  the  world. 
The  elements  around  us  may  remain,  and  our  gigantic 
mountains  and  rivers;  our  miserable  descendants  may 
multiply  and  rot  in  moral  darkness  and  putrefaction. 
But  the  American  character  and  the  American  nation 
will  go  down  into  the  same  grave  that  entombs  the  Sab- 
bath— and  our  epitaph  will  be,  ''  Here  ended  the  nation 
that  despised  the  laws  of  heaven,  and  gloried  in  their 
wisdom,  wealth,  and  power." 

Be  entreated  then,  to  "  Eemember  the  Sabbath-day  to 
keep  it  holy."  This  is  the  day  the  Lord  hath  made. 
He  calls  the  hours  his  owm.     Remember  it,  for  it  comes 

5 


98  THE  SABBATH. 

to  rest  the  weary  laborer,  to  calm  the  fevered  brow  of 
the  anxious  merchant.  Remember  it,  for  it  is  the  type 
of  heaven — of  that  rest  which  remaineth  for  the  people 
of  God.  Remember  it,  for  God  wrote  it  with  his  own 
finger  upon  tables  of  stone,  and  proclaimed  it,  amid 
thunderings  and  lightning  and  earthquakes,  from  the 
summit  of  Mount  Sinai.  Remember  it,  because  of  the 
awful  judgments  inflicted  on  those  nations  and  individ- 
uals who  have  violated  it — on  rebellious  Israel,  on  In- 
fidel France,  when  God  thinned  their  families,  wasted 
their  treasures,  and  drenched  their  cities  in  blood.  Re- 
member it,  because  of  the  many  terrible  calamities  which 
have  come  under  your  own  observation  in  consequence 
of  its  violation — the  carriage  accident — the  boat  disas- 
ter— the  faithless  gun — the  gay  party  of  pleasure,  which 
went  out  on  the  morning  of  God's  holy  day,  but  who 
never  returned,  or  else  were  brought  home  mere  man- 
gled corpses,  monuments  of  the  wrath  of  heaven. 

We  never,  in  the  whole  course  of  our  recollection,  met 
with  a  Christian  friend  who  bore  upon  his  character  any 
evidence  of  the  spirit's  renovation,  who  did  not  keep 
holy  the  Sab.bath.  "  We  appeal  to  the  memory  of  all 
the  worthies  who  are  now  lying  in  their  graves;  we 
appeal  to  every  one  who  reads  these  lines,  and  who  car- 
ries in  his  bosom  a  recollection  of  a  father's  worth  and 
a  mother's  piety,  if,  on  the  coming  round  of  the  seventh 
day,  an  air  of  peculiar  sacredness  did  not  spread  itself 
over  the  mansion  where  he  drew  his  first  breath,  and 
was  taught  to  lisp  his  infant  hymn,  and  breathe  his 
infant  prayer.  The  Sabbath  is  still  dear  to  him.  He 
loves  the  quietness  of  the  hallowed  morn.  He  loves  the 
church  bell  sound,  which  summons  him  to  the  house  of 
prayer.  He  loves  to  join  the  chorus  of  devotion,  and  sit 
and  listen  to  the  voice  of  persuasion,  which  is  lifted  up 
in  the  hearing  of  the  great  congregation." 


A  CHEISTMAS  STOEY. 

Preached  at  Baton  Rouge,  November  25, 1831. 


^^  Beliold,  I  bring  yo\i  good  tidings  of  great  joy,  loliicJi 
shall  le  to  all inople^ — Luke  2  :  10.  The  silence  of  mid- 
night reigns  over  Judea.  The  inhabitants  of  the  city 
of  Bethlehem  are  reposing  in  peaceful  slumber,  all  save 
a  ia^  humble  herdsmen  upon  a  neighboring  field.  The 
notes  of  a  sliepherd's  pipe  float  across  the  moonlit  plain. 
Suddenly  those  notes  are  hushed ;  for  music  of  a  loftier 
strain — music  such  as  is  set  and  sung  in  heaven— comes 
along  the  breeze.  A  seraph's  wing  rustles  in  the  sky, 
a  seraph's  dazzling  form  comes  down,  a  seraph's  voice 
proclaims  the  embassy,  "Behold,  I  bring  you  good 
tidings  of  great  joy,  which  shall  be  to  all  people.  For 
unto  you  is  born  this  day,  in  the  city  of  David,  a 
Saviour,  which  is  Christ  the  Lord.  And  suddenly  there 
was  with  the  angel  a  multitude  of  the  heavenly  host, 
praising  God,  and  saying,  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest, 
and  on  earth  peace,  good  will  toward  men." 

Oh,  what  emotions  of  rapture  must  have  thrilled 
through  .those  shepherds'  hearts,  as  this  announcement 
fell  from  the  angel's  lips !  "  The  predicted  Messiah,  the 
long-expected  deliverer  of  the  world,  has  He  at  last 
come  ?  That  glorious  Personage,  the  theme  of  many  a 
poet's  song,  the  burden  of  many  a  prophet's  rapture,  has 
He  at  last  actually  appeared  ?  And  now  no  more  shall 
the  nations  mourn  ;  no  longer  shall  their  ardent  expec- 
tations be  disappointed.     The  darkness  of  superstition 


100  A   CHRISTMAS   STOEY. 

will  now  roll  away ;  the  types  will  all  be  fulfilled ;  the 
spirituality  of  a  once  sublime  system  of  worship  will  be 
restored;  the  blind  shall  see,  the  deaf  hear,  the  lame 
man  shall  leap  as  an  hart,  and  the  tongue  of  the  dumb 
sing;  for  the  Lord  whom  we  have  long  sought  has 
come  to  his  temple.  Let  us  haste  to  the  city,  and  wor- 
ship the  heavenly  stranger." 

Was  this  announcement  of  the  incarnation  an  event 
of  intense  interest  to  the  Jew,  it  is  equally  so  to  the 
Gentile.  For  hear  its  language :  "  Behold,  I  bring  you 
good  tidings  of  great  joy,  which  shall  be  to  all  people." 
And  all  peo^Dle  have  had  reason  so  to  view  it.  The 
assumption  of  human  nature  by  the  Son  of  God  was 
the  commencement  of  that  chain  of  glorious  events 
which  received  their  consummation  on  Calvary,  consti- 
tuting a  scheme  of  redemption  for  sinners  of  every  age 
and  nation,  forming  a  river  of  free  grace,  which  has 
rolled  and  widened,  and  watered  the  earth ;  upon  whose 
sacred  brink  loe  are  permitted  to  stand  and  drink  and 
never  die.  Yea,  must  not  the  historian,  in  tracing  all 
the  improvements  of  modern  society  to  their  true  cause, 
go  directly  back  to  him  who  was  born  in  a  manger  in 
Bethlehem,  and  expired  as  a  malefactor  on  the  Cross  ? 
For  what  else  but  his  benign  religion — the  combined 
product  of  his  incarnation,  his  example,  his  teachings^ 
and  his  death — has  changed  the  aspect  of  our  world; 
communicating  its  kindly  influences  to  every  public 
and  private  department  of  life;  working  itself  into  the 
framework  of  civil  states ;  giving  a  tinge  to  the  com- 
plexion of  governments,  to  the  temper  and  administra- 
tion of  laws ;  restraining  the  spirit  of  princes  and  the 
madness  of  the  people ;  softening  the  rigor  of  despotism  ; 
blunting  the  edge  of  the  sword,  and  spreading  a  vail  of 
mercy  over  the  horrors  of  modern  warftire  ?  Its  kindly 
influences  have  descended  into  families,  improved  every 


A  CHRISTMAS   STORY.  101 

domestic  endearment,  given  tenderness  to  the  parent, 
humanity  to  the  master,  respect  to  superiors,  to  inferiors 
ease.  And  what  is  its  influence  on  our  prospects  of  a 
life  to  come  ?  It  is  all  our  dependence  and  all  our 
hope.  When  the  soul  is  burdened  under  a  sense  of 
guilt,  how  readily  it  reverts  to  those  awful  scenes  which 
occurred  eighteen  hundred  years  ago.  There,  while 
dwelling  by  a  retrospective  faith  upon  Bethlehem  and 
Gethsemane  and  the  Cross,  the  hard  heart  is  softened 
into  penitence  and  love.  There  death  itself  has  lost  its 
sting,  and  the  soul,  with  a  holy  magnanimity,  has  borne 
up  under  the  terrors  of  dissolution,  and  has  sung  old 
Simeon's  song,  "Lord,  now  lettest  thou  thy  servant  de- 
part in  peace,  for  mine  eyes  have  seen  thy  salvation." 

Behold,  then,  we  bring  you  good  tidings  of  great  joy, 
which  shall  be  to  all  people.  All  people  are  benefited 
by  his  birth,  all  people  are  instructed  by  his  life,  all 
people  are  saved,  if  saved  at  all,  by  his  death.  The 
time  of  the  advent  was  one  of  great  joy. 

1.  Christ  became  incarnate  at  a  period  in  which  the 
whole  civilized  world  were  expecting  him.  History 
asserts  that  not  merely  were  the  Jews  at  that  time  con- 
fidently looking  for  the  promised  Messiah,  but  also  that 
a  profound  impression  was  pervading  all  civilized  na- 
tions, that  a  glorious  personal  personage  was  about  to 
arise  to  reform  and  bless  ^le  whole  earth.  Hence,  as  if 
by  a  common  impulse,  the  nations  had  laid  aside  their 
bloody  conflicts,  and  were  reposing  in  unwonted  har- 
mony. AVars  had  ceased.  The  temple  of  Janus  at 
Rome  was  closed.  The  blessings  of  peace  were  enjoyed 
throughout  the  vast  Eoman  empire.  The  wise  men  of 
Greece  and  Rome  and  Persia,  impelled  either  from  a 
secret  impulse  from  heaven,  or  else  from  the  influence 
of  a  wide-spread  tradition,  were  all  casting  their  anxious 
gaze  to  the  land  of  Judea,  as  the  place  from  which  would 


102  A  CHRISTMAS   STORY. 

Speedily  issue  the  world's  great  deliverer.  And  thus  we 
read,  that  when  Jesus  was  born  in  Bethlehem  in  Judea, 
in  the  days  of  Herod  the  king,  there  came  wise  men 
from  the  East  to  Jerusalem,  saying,  "Where  is  he  that 
is  born  King  of  the  Jews  ?  For  we  have  seen  his  star 
in  the  East,  and  are  come  to  worship  him."  And 
guided  by  that  mysterious  star,  they  came  to  the  place 
where  the  sleeping  infant  lay,  and  bowing  down  before 
him,  they  gave  him  their  gold,  their  frankincense,  and 
their  myrrh. 

2.  The  incarnation  of  Christ  occurred  at  a  time  his 
presence  was  most  needed.  It  is  a  historical  fact,  no  less 
strange  than  true,  that  the  period  of  the  advent  was  a 
period  of  unprecedented  moral  darkness.  The  repose 
of  the  nations  was  the  slumber  of  spiritual  death.  Not- 
withstanding Jerusalem  had  her  temple,  Greece  her 
academic  groves,  and  Kome  her  senate  and  her  forum, 
and  all  three  had  their  priests,  their  poets,  and  their 
orators,  yet  still  a  gloomy  night  of  ignorance,  supersti- 
tion, and  vice,  brooded  over  the  earth.  The  Jewish 
Church  had  utterly  lost  her  spirituality,  and  was  repos- 
ing complacently  on  mere  external  ceremonies.  The 
Pharisee,  on  the  one  hand,  placed  all  religion  in  mere 
external  morality.  The  Sadducee,  on  the  other  hand, 
destroyed  all  religion  by  denying  the  immortality  of  the 
soul.  Was  such  the  condition  of  the  Jews,  what  was 
the  state  of  the  Gentiles  ?  Darker  still.  The  nations 
had  sunk  into  the  most  abject  ignorance  on  moral 
topics,  and  were  calling  on  their  wise  men  for  light  and 
knowledge,  but  all  in  vain.  The  speculations  of  human 
reason,  the  refinements  of  human  philosophy,  all  the 
elegant  accomplishments  of  the  Augustan  age,  had 
utterly  failed  in  elevating  the  morals  and  restraining 
the  vices  of  men.  Yea,  their  gods  were  hideous  mon- 
sters, debauchery  and  crime.     There  was  not  a  single 


A  CHRISTMAS   STORY.  103 

vice,  in  the  dark  catalogue  of  human  enormities,  which 
was  not  shamelessly  perpetrated  under  the  sanction  of 
some  one  of  those  innumerable  gods  and  goddesses 
before  whose  shrines  the  nations  bowed.  "The  world 
by  wisdom  knew  not  God."  Then  it  was  clearly  demon- 
strated that  no  attainments  of  poetry,  eloquence,  or 
science,  however  great,  can  supersede  the  necessity  of 
divine  revelation  ;  that  a  man  may  be  affluent  in  all  the 
riches  of  learning,  and  glittering  in  all  the  attractions 
of  wit,  and  still  need  a  teacher  from  heaven,  a  divine 
physician  to  heal  his  moral  maladies,  a  supernatural 
light  from  the  skies  to  dispel  the  darkness  of  his  soul. 
Hence  the  declaration  of  a  heathen  writer  of  that  day, 
that  unless  the  gods  sent  down  to  earth  a  special  mes- 
senger, the  nations  must  wax  worse  and  worse.  Xow, 
in  view  of  these  facts,  I  a^k  you,  when  was  such  a  being 
as  Jesus  Christ  more  needed?  "When  was  such  a  de- 
liverer more  longed  for?  And  what  was  calculated  to 
give  more  joy  to  the  earth  than  the  announcement  of 
his  incarnation  ? 

3.  The  period  of  the  incarnation  was  the  best  possi- 
ble period  for  the  propagation  of  a  new  religion.  Kot 
merely  did  the  world  expect  a  Saviour — not  merely  did 
the  debased  state  of  the  world  absolutely  need  his  pres- 
ence— but  the  condition  of  the  nations  at  that  time 
presented  peculiar  facilities  for  the  spread  of  a  new 
faith.  The  fullness  of  the  time  had  come.  There  was 
the  Greek  language — the  language  of  Christ  and  his 
apostles — the  language  of  poetry  and  passion,  spoken 
throughout  the  civilized  world — standing  ready  to  serve 
as  a  most  happy  vehicle  for  the  spread  of  a  new  religion. 
Never  had  there  been  a  period  in  which  there  was  greater 
intercourse  between  the  various  nations  of  the  earth. 
All  the  large  cities  were  filled  with  strangers.  Mer- 
chants and  philosophers  were  continually  traveling  from 


104       '  A  CHRISTMAS   STORY. 

city  to  city,  in  searcli  of  wealth  and  knowledge.  Hence 
we  read  that  when  Peter  stood  up  on  the  day  of  Pente- 
cost and  preached  his  first  sermon,  he  was  heard  by  the 
representatives  of  seventeen  different  nations — "Par- 
thians,  and  Medes,  and  Elamites,  and  the  dwellers  in 
Mesopotamia,  and  in  Judea,  and  Cappadocia,  in  Pontus, 
and  Asia,  Phrygia,  and  Pamphylia,  in  Egypt,  and  in 
the  parts  of  Libya  about  Cyrene,  and  strangers  of  Eome, 
Jews  and  proselytes,  Cretes  and  Arabians,  we  do  hear 
them  speak  in  our  tongues  the  wonderful  works  of  God. 
And  they  were  all  amazed,  and  were  in  doubt,  saying 
one  to  another,  What  meaneth  this?"  Aud  returning 
to  their  distant  homes,  they  spread  the  wondrous  story. 
Oh  what  an  auspicious  era  for  the  coming  of  our  Lord! 
4.  The  time  of  the  advent  was  the  time  accurately 
foretold  by  the  prophets  of  the  old  dispensation.  The 
seventy  weeks  of  Daniel  were  now  drawing  to  a  close. 
The  types  and  ceremonies — the  slaughtering  of  sheep 
and  of  goats — all  the  solemn  pomp  of  the  Jewish  wor- 
ship, were  pointing  in  a  manner  not  to  be  misunder- 
stood, to  the  speedy  coming  of  the  Lamb  of  God,  who, 
by  the  sacrifice  ^  himself  upon  the  Cross,  would  take 
away  the  sins  of  the  world.  There  are  nearly  two  hun- 
dred prophecies  in  the  Old  Testament  Scriptures,  which 
clearly  indicated  the  approaching  advent.  One  prophet 
had  predicted  the  circumstances  of  his  birth — another, 
the  tribe  from  which  he  would  spring — a  third,  the  very 
month  of  his  incarnation.  Had  he  not  then  appeared 
at  the  specified  time  and  place,  the  credit  of  the  Old 
Testament  as  a  divine  Revelation  would  have  been  for- 
ever destroyed.  But  "  behold  we  bring  you  good  tidings 
of  great  joy;"  for  unto  you  was  born  in  the  city  of 
David,  a  Saviour.  By  being  so  born,  he  has  fulfilled  the 
prophecies,  abolished  the  sacrifices,  broken  down  the 
middle  wall  of  partition  between  Jew  and  Gentile,  and 


A  CHRISTMAS   STORY.  105 

has  purchased  everlasting  salvatioo  for  men  of  every 
age,  and  tribe,  and  people.  "  Glory  be  to  God  in  the 
highest,  on  earth  peace,  good  will  to  men."  In  Christ 
there  is  neither  Jew  nor  Greek,  Barbarian,  Scythian, 
bond  or  free — but  all  are  one,  one  Lord,  one  faith,  one 
baptism,  one  church,  and  one  heaven. 

5.  We  come  now  to  the  most  important  consideration 
which  made  the  incarnation  of  Jesus  a  source  of  "  great 
joy  to  all  people."  "  Jesus  was  born  in  Bethlehem  of 
Judea,"  in  order  that  he  might  die  upon  the  cross  for 
the  redemption  of  a  lost  world.  Or,  as  St.  Paul  ex- 
presses it,  "When  the  fullness  of  the  time  was  come, 
God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten 
Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  on  him  might  not  perish, 
but  have  everlasting  life."  No  wonder  that  a  multitude 
of  the  heavenly  host  came  down  and  sung  glory  to  God 
in  the  highest,  and  on  earth,  peace,  good  will  to  men. 
And  why  all  this  ?  Why  the  awful  mystery  of  the  in- 
carnation ?  Why  must  the  second  person  in  the  God- 
head be  wrapt  in  a  veil  of  mortal  flesh  ?  Why  born  of 
a  woman  and  cradled  in  a  manger  ? 

Man  is  placed  under  the  moral  government  of  God. 
'No  moral  government  can  exist  without  law.  No  law 
has  any  force  without  penalty.  Penalties  are  useless, 
unless  they  are  executed.  Must  God  reward  the  right- 
eous, Avhen  they  obey  ?  Then,  for  the  same  reason,  he 
is  bound  to  punish  the  wicked  when  they  transgress. 
Could  the  honor  of  his  law,  could  the  stability  of  his 
throne,  could  the  well-being  of  the  universe  for  one 
moment  be  maintained,  were  he  to  permit  the  guilty  to 
escape  ?  Who  tlien  have  incurred  the  penalty  ?  Man. 
Who  can  remove  the  penalty  ?  Christ.  "  Christ  hath 
redeemed  us  from  the  curse  of  the  law,  having  been 
made  a  curse  for  us."  He  bore  the  load.  He  endured 
the  penalty.    He  paid  down  the  ransom.     He  released 


106  A   CHRISTMAS   STORY. 

the  captive.  lie  redeemed  the  slave.  His  wounds  are 
our  healing — his  groans,  our  songs — his  death,  our  life — 
his  crown  of  thorns,  our  crown  of  glory.  But  could  not 
Christ  achieve  this  great  work,  without  becoming  in- 
carnate? No.  Human  nature  had  sinned.  Hence, 
human  nature  must  suffer.  For,  "  without  shedding  of 
.  blood,  there  is  no  remission."  Blood,  then,  must  first 
be  possessed,  before  blood  could  be  shed.  Hence  the 
absolute  necessity,  that  the  Eedeemer  should  become 
man — man  to  set  us  an  example,  man  to  enable  him  to 
sympathize  with  humanity,  man  to  suffer  death  in  the 
room  of  the  guilty.  Equally  essential  was  it,  that  He 
should  be  God;  otherwise,  his  sufferings  and  death, 
however  agonizing,  could  have  had  nothing  meritori- 
ous, no  more  than  the  death  of  the  martyrs.  Christ 
must  needs  be  man,  to  qualify  him  to  suffer;  he  must 
needs  be  God,  to  im|)art  to  his  sufferings  infinite  merit. 
And  by  virtue  of  his  being  both  God  and  man,  he  of  all 
beings  in  heaven  and  earth,  is  qualified  to  be  the  Re- 
deemer of  the  world.  By  the  union  of  the  two  natures, 
the  blood  of  Cah'ary  becomes  efficacious,  and  mercy 
flows  down  to  a  lost  race.  "Behold  the  man!  How- 
glorious  He." 

Are  you  guilty?  We  bring  you  good  tidings;  Christ 
hath  delivered  us  from  the  curse  of  the  law.  Are  you 
tempted  ?  Here  are  good  tidings.  "  He  is  able  to  suc- 
cor them  that  are  tempted." 

Are  you  bowed  down  under  the  troubles  of  life  ? 
Hear  him  saying,  "  Come  unto  me  all  ye  that  labor  and 
are  heavy  laden." 

Are  ye  poor  ?  He  is  the  poor  man's  friend.  Are  you 
afraid  to  die?  He  hath  abolished  death,  and  become 
the  conqueror  of  the  king  of  terrors.  Finally,  to  one 
and  to  all,  we  bring  good  news.  In  the  effects  of  his 
wonderful  incarnation,  you  are  all  interested — of  the 


A  CHBISTMAS  STORY.  107 

fruits  of  his  death,  you  are  all  invited  to  partake.  Be- 
cause he  became  man,  you  may  become  kings  and  priests 
unto  God.  You  may,  however,  neglect  the  offer — refuse 
the  message — turn  a  deaf  ear  to  tidings  that  made  all 
heaven  glad ;  the  time  will  come  when  this  strange  in- 
difference will  be  over.  "  Pleasure  will  fold  her  wing, 
and  friend  and  lover  shall  to  the  embraces  of  the  worm 
have  gone."  The  moment  you  enter  eternity,  how 
changed  the  scene.  The  love  of  Christ,  the  infinite 
felicity  of  being  saved,  the  unspeakable  misery  of  being 
lost,  will  occupy  the  vast  capacities  of  the  immortal 
soul. 


THE   HOPE    OF   THE    NATIOIf. 

Preached  in  Houston,  Dec.  16, 1864,  by  request  of  President  Davis. 


^^  For  the  nation  and  kingdom  that  icill  not  serve 
thee  shall  perish;  yea,  those  nations  shall  be  utterly 
wasted" — Isaiah  60  :  12.  Nations  exist  only  in  this  life. 
Hence,  they  receive  all  their  rewards  and  all  their  pun- 
ishments here.  And  they  are  rewarded  or  punished  in 
proportion  to  the  degree  in  which  they  obey  or  trans- 
gress the  laws  of  Heaven.  It  is  a  truth  susceptible  of 
the  clearest  moral  demonstration  that  righteousness 
exalteth  a  nation  as  well  as  an  individual,  and  that 
"  Godliness  is  profitable  for  all  things,  having  the  prom- 
ise of  the  life  that  now  is,  and  that  which  is  to  come." 
If  the  Gospel  were  permitted  to  exert  its  proper  influ- 
ence upon  the  kingdoms  of  the  world,  the  highest  de- 
gree of  temporal  happiness  and  prosperity  would  be  the 
sure  result.  Civil  liberty  is  perched  upon  the  standard 
of  the  Cross,  and  will  visit  every  land  where  that  stand- 
ard is  unfurled.  In  the  religion  of  the  Bible  we  have 
an  unfailing  antidote  against  all  those  moral  maladies 
which  in  past  ages  have  brought  ruin  on  nations.  The 
Gospel  proposes  to  change  the  hearts  of  men — to  soften 
their  tein^ers — to  impart  a  holy  direction  to  the  govern- 
ing purposes  of  the  soul — thus  leading  men  to  be  moral 
and  virtuous  from  principle ;  not  from  constraint,  but 
from  choice — not  from  the  dread  of  temporal  punish- 
mients,  but  from  a  cheerful  preference.  The  Gospel  is 
opposed  to  ambition,  the  bane  of  empires.    It  forbids 


THE  HOPE  OF  THE  NATION.  109 

reyenge,  the  usual  cause  of  national  conflicts.  It  con- 
demns avarice,  the  prolific  parent  of  oppression,  dishon- 
esty, and  fraud.  It  denounces  idleness,  and  declares 
that  "  if  a  man  will  not  work,  neither  shall  he  eat."  It 
imposes  a  solemn  restriction  on  the  animal  appetites, 
"teaching  us  that,  denying  ungodliness  and  worldly 
lusts,  we  should  live  soberly,  righteously,  and  godly  in 
this  present  world,"  thus  cutting  off  ten  thousand 
avenues  to  miser}^,  violence,  and  blood.  The  Gospel 
inculcates  the  fear  of  an  invisible  but  omnipotent  Jeho- 
vah, and  thus  leads  men  to  be  virtuous  in  secret — to 
reverence  the  obligation  of  oaths,  upon  the  observance 
of  which  property,  reputation,  and  life  so  frequently 
depend.  It  likewise  teaches  us  to  love  our  country — to 
defend  our  rights — to  obey  magistrates — to  pity  and 
help  the  poor.  It  elevates  the  female  sex,  and  gives 
woman  her  proper  rank  in  the  social  state.  It  proclaims 
the  original  equalit)|of  the  human  race,  and  thus  frowns 
upon  the  arrogant  claims  of  kings — the  divine  right  of 
the  few  to  rule  the  many,  of  the  strong  to  oppress  the 
weak. 

Are  such  some  of  the  pure  and  elevating  principles 
of  our  holy  religion,  all  must  at  once  perceive  that  their 
belief  and  practice  would  exalt  the  nations  of  the  earth, 
and  make  them  great,  glorious,  and  free.  And  there- 
fore, must  not  every  community  in  which  these  princi- 
ples are  unknown  be  poor  and  abject — a  prey  to  misrule 
and  faction,  and,  in  its  gradual  but  sure  decline,  soon  ex- 
hibit a  melancholy  illustration  of  the^truth  of  the  text, 
that  "  the  nation  and  kingdom  that  will  not  serve  God 
shall  perish ;  yea  those  nations  shall  be  utterly  wasted  ?  " 

But  if  it  be  true  that  the  belief  and  practice  of  the 
precepts  of  the  Gospel  can  alone  make  nations  great, 
the  remark  applies  with  most  peculiar  force  to  a  country 
like  ours.      Here  the  people  govern  themselves.      All 


110  THE  HOPE  OF  THE  NATION. 

authority  and  all  power  emanates  from  them.  Hence 
if  the  people  be  not  enlightened  and  virtuous,  our  ex- 
periment of  self-government  must  assuredly  fail.  If  the 
fountain  be  impure,  the  streams  will  be  polluted,  and 
will  form  a  river  of  death,  which  will  desolate  and  curse 
our  fair  inheritance.  The  waves  of  our  unquiet  sea  will 
rise  and  swell  as  high  as  our  mountains,  and  shipwreck 
the  hopes  of  patriots  and  the  world.  For  who,  then, 
can  rally  the  nation  and  roll  back  the  burning  tide  ? 
Who  then  can  guide  the  bark  of  liberty,  amid  the  raging 
and  the  roaring  of  such  a  sea  of  fire  ? 

It  is  idle  to  say  that  the  enforcement  of  our  wise  and 
equitable  laws  will,  witliout  the  moral  power  of  the 
Gospel,  ensure  our  continued  prosperity.  How  can  laws 
bind  the  heart  and  purify  the  motives  ?  How  can  laws 
repress  selfishness,  or  curb  ambition,  or  eradicate  volup- 
tuousness and  pride  ?  The  worst  enemies  to  civil  liberty 
are  offenses  which  human  laws  caff  never  reach.  Hu- 
man laws  are  restricted  to  the  government  of  external 
actions,  and  only  such  actions  as  are  grossly  wrong,  and 
wiiich  can  be  proved  by  competent  witnesses;  while  the 
great  mainsprings  of  vice  and  corruption,  lying  deep 
within  the  soul,  remain  unreached  and  unchecked. 
There  must  then  be  a  profound  reverence  for  Almighty 
God  resting  upon  the  spirit— an  inward  love  of  virtue — 
a  solemn  regard  to  the  retributions  of  eternity,  or  crime 
and  passion  will  rage  in  defiance  of  all  law.  The 
streams  of  corruption,  originating  in  the  recesses  of  the 
unsanctified  heart,  will  rise  and  swell  until  they  burst 
through  every  barrier,  and  our  glory  and  our  country 
will  sink  down  amid  the  vortex  of  revolutions.  Nations 
are  like  volcanoes ;  they  contain  within  their  own  bow- 
els the  seeds  of  ruin ;  and  if  God  takes  off  his  hand 
they  will  explode,  scattering  far  and  wide  the  fragments 
of  their  greatness.     "Manners,"  says  Chatham,  "have 


THE   HOPE  OF  THE   NATION.  Ill 

more  influence  than  laws."  Public  sentiment,  especially 
in  a  country  like  ours,  is  superior  to  all  legislation.  For 
it  matters  not  Iioav  good  and  wholesome  may  be  our 
written  code,  it  will  remain  forever  a  dead  letter  if  there 
be  not  public  virtue  in  the  mass  of  the  people,  sufficient 
to  sustain  the  officers  in  its  execution. 

Now,  can  the  diftusion  of  knowledge,  the  spread  of 
education,  of  itself,  perpetuate  our  free  institutions? 
There  are  no  moral  qualities  in  intellect.  A  man  may 
be  glittering  in  all  the  attractions  of  wit,  and  rich  in  all 
the  gifts  of  fancy,  and  still  have  within  him  the  heart 
of  a  demon.  Science  is  a  mere  instrument  which  may 
be  turned  either  to  good  or  bad  account.  So  that, 
while  knowledge  does  not  of  itself  corrupt,  it  does  not 
of  itself  purify.  History  lifts  her  venerable  voice  and 
declares  that  those  countries  and  ages  that  have  been 
most  distinguished  for  the  arts  and  sciences,  have  also 
been  most  conspicuous  for  voluptuousness  and  crime, 
thus  showing  that  the  era  of  moral  dissolution  may 
follow  close  upon  that  of  the  highest  intellectual  cul- 
ture. At  no  period  were  scientific  pursuits  more  pop- 
ular in  France  than  during  her  terrible  revolution, 
when  blood  flowed  in  streams  down  the  streets  of  her 
capital,  and  crimes,  enough  to  make  devils  blush,  were 
daily  perpetrated  under  the  sacred  name  of  Liberty. 
.  Nor  can  national  wealth,  of  itself,  preserve  the  liber- 
ties of  our  country.  From  the  manner  in  which  our 
politicians  and  public  men  talk,  it  is  evident  that  they 
look  upon  riches  as  the  chief  element  of  national  great- 
ness. Hence  their  frequent  and  noisy  harangues  upon 
the  currency,  the  taxes,  the  revenues,  and  trade.  But  his- 
tory declares  that  national  opulence  has  always  been  del- 
eterious to  national  virtue — cooling  the  patriot's  ardor, 
impairing  moral  principle,  weakening  both  mind  and 
body,  and  disqualifying  men  to  defend  their  country. 


112  THE  HOPE  OF  THE  NATION. 

The  history  of  our  present  war  shows  that  the  poor  have 
been  more  prompt  to  rush  to  the  conflict  than  the  rich. 
All,  therefore,  that  is  done  to  accumulate  wealth  and 
stimulate  the  nation's  thirst  for  gain,  is  only  providing 
fuel  to  the  flames  which  will  consume  us.  The  greater 
our  wealth,  the  more  speedy  our  downfall,  nnless  the 
power  of  the  Gospel  come  to  the  rescue,  and  teach  the 
people  self-denial,  curb  their  avarice,  inculcate  prin- 
ciples of  honesty,  and  hold  up  the  claims  of  God  and  of 
the  soul.  Where  is  Babylon,  and  Athens,  and  Rome, 
those  ancient  depositories  of  wealth  ?  Their  pomp  has 
gone  down  to  the  grave,  and  the  noise  of  their  viols  has 
ceased;  and  from  their  gray  ruins  comes  np  a  voice 
which  seems  to  say :  "  Let  not  the  wise  man  glory  in 
his  wisdom  ;  let  not  the  mighty  man  glory  in  his  might ; 
let  not  the  rich  man  glory  in  his  riches,  but  let  him 
that  glorieth,  glory  in  the  Lord."  "  For  the  nation  and 
kingdom  that  will  not  serve  God  shall  perish ;  yea,  those 
nations  shall  be  utterly  wasted." 

Let  it  then  be  proclaimed  aloud  this  day,  throughout 
the  whole  length  aud  breadth  of  the  land,  that  nothing 
but  an  enlightened  public  sentiment,  under  the  control 
of  religious  principle,  can  maintain  the  ascendency  over 
corruption,  and  preserve  our  country.  Tell  us  not  of 
our  wise  legislation,  of  our  patriotism,  and  of  our  armies. 
Tell  us  not  that  in  a  nation  like  ours,  wealth  is  joower, 
or  that  talent  is  power,  or  that  knowledge  is  power,  or 
that  law  is  power,  or  that  bayonets  are  power.  There 
is  a  declaration  that  must  be  placed  above  them  all,  viz. : 
Truth  is  2^owe7\  Wealth  cannot  purchase  it,  talent  can- 
not refute  it,  knowledge  cannot  overreach  it,  laws  can- 
not silence  it,  bayonets  cannot  crush  it.  Fling  it  into 
the  most  tremendous  billows  of  popular  commotion, 
cast  it  into  the  seven-fold  heated  furnace  of  the  tyrant's 
wrath,  it  will  mount  aloft  like  the  ark  on  the  waves  of 


THE   HOPE   OF  THE  NATION.  113 

the  deluge ;  it  wiH  walk  like  the  Son  of  God,  untouched 
amid  the  burning  fiery  furnace.  Truth — evangelic 
truth;  a  profound  reverence  for  Almighty  God  ;  a  deep 
sense  of  personal  responsibility,  pervading  all  classes 
from  the  lowest  to  the  most  exalted,  it  is  this  (in  con- 
I'unction  with  education  and  the  love  of  liberty)  which 
will  preserve  our  country,  and  make  it  a  blessing  to  our 
descendants  and  the  world. 

And  now,  in  view  of  all  that  has  been  said,  let  us 
here  pause,  and  ask  ourselves  this  solemn  question: 
What  are  we,  as  a  nation,  doing  to  uphold  and  spread 
these  great  principles,  which  are  essential  to  the  per- 
petuity of  our  free  institutions  ?  How  are  we  acting 
in  view  of  the  fact  that  "  righteousness  exalteth  a  na- 
tion/' and  that  the  nation  and  kingdom  that  will  not 
serve  God,  shall  perisli  ?  Have  we  no  national  sins  to 
mourn  over  ?  Are  there  no  indications  among  us  of  an 
alarming  degeneracy  ?  Is  there  nothing  in  the  signs  of 
the  times  forcing  the  conviction  upon  the  Christian 
patriot's  heart,  that  we,  as  a  people,  are  forsaking  the 
God  of  our  fathers,  and  are  cherishing  in  our  bosom 
the  seeds  of  national  ruin  ?  Bear  in  mind  that  the  con- 
nection between  national  sins  and  national  ruin  is  not 
arbitrary — it  is  natural.  God  does  not  usually  destroy 
guilty  nations  by  a  miracle.  The  people  that  will  not 
serve  God  shall  perish,  as  the  legitimate  result  of  their 
own  conduct.     They  destroy  themselves. 

And  what  are  some  of  our  national  sins  ?  Must  we 
not  place  prominently  in  the  list  the  wide-spread  dese- 
cration of  the  Sabbath ;  thousands  making  the  day  a 
season  for  secular  business,  or  of  festivity  and  gossip ; 
the  transaction  of  official  duties  under  the  plea  of  mili- 
tary necessity;  the  example  of  our  governors,  our 
judges,  our  congressmen,  and  our  military  officers,  who 
are  notorious  for  their  neglect  of  public  worship.    Look 


114         THE  HOPE  OF  THE  NATION. 

at  intemperance,  with  its  kindred  vices  of  profanity, 
lewdness,  and  gambling  ;  the  awful  increase  of  conjugal 
infidelity;  military  libertines  and  gaily  attired  Avantons, 
unblushingly  parading  all  our  towns,  and  jostling 
honest  men's  wives  and  daughters ;  the  growing  laxity 
of  family  discipline;  the  withdrawal  of  the  requisite 
means  to  support  the  Gospel,  and  the  conseqent  ne- 
cessity of  ministers  engaging  in  secular  pursuits  to 
sustain  their  families;  the  wide-spread  speculations 
and  exorbitant  prices  in  reference  to  the  necessaries  of 
life ;  the  frauds  and  peculations  in  our  various  army 
bureaux  ;  the  corruption  of  the  press ;  the  neglect  of 
the  duties  of  masters  to  their  slaves;  the  neglect  of  the 
families  of  our  brave  soldiers  who  have  gone  far  from 
home  to  fight  the  battles  of  our  country. 

Are  these  some  of  our  national  sins  ?  What  then 
must  be  our  doom,  unless  speedy  repentance  and  ref- 
ormation interpose?  "Shall  not  the  Lord  visit  for 
these  things,  and  shall  not  he  be  avenged  on  such  a 
nation  as  this  ?  "  And  may  he  not  give  us  over  to  our 
own  lusts,  a  prey  ?  A  lingering  decay  is  worse  than  a 
sudden  overthrow. 

A  nation  dies  when  everything  great  and  good  dies 
in  it.  The  name  may  live  after  the  glory  has  departed. 
Talk  not  of  our  written  Constitution,  glorious  as  it  is — 
immortal  as  we  hope  it  may  be.  Political  security 
dwells  not  in  the  letter,  but  in  the  spirit  of  our  free  in- 
stitutions. Yet  many  deem  all  safe,  so  long  as  the 
letter  is  safe.  Death  does  not  take  away  the  soul  and 
body  both.  Life  may  have  departed,  and  yet  not  an 
artery,  or  bone,  or  fiber  be  removed.  And  so  the  spirit 
of  a  government  may  perish,  and  not  a  line  or  letter  of 
its  written  constitution  be  effaced.  When  usurpation 
comes  in,  masked  and  hypocritical,  its  abiding  place  is 
usually  the  dead  letter  of  a  once  free  Constitution. 


THE   HOPE  OF  THE  NATION.  115 

beheld  Augustus  Caesar  wielding  imperial  power  amid 
the  forms  of  a  dead  republic.  The  safest  place  of 
despotism  is  the  vacant  temple  of  freedom — a  woeful 
desecration,  like  the  temple  of  God  turned  into  the 
mart  of  the  money  changers. 

Finally,  I  call  upon  all,  in  view  of  our  alarming  con- 
dition, to  prostrate  themselves  before  the  mighty  Ruler 
of  the  Universe.  Humble  yourselves  under  the  mighty 
hand  of  God.  Be  afflicted  and  mourn  and  weep.  Let 
your  laughter  be  turned  into  mourning,  and  your  joy 
to  heaviness.  Let  your  prayer  be,  "  Spare,  oh  Lord, 
spare  thy  people,  and  give  not  thy  heritage  to  reproach." 
Forget  not  that  the  sins  of  the  nation  are  the  sins  of 
the  individuals  who  compose  it.  Let  each  one,  then 
repent  of  his  personal  sins.  Let  each  one  enquire  how 
far  he  has,  by  his  example,  contributed  to  swell  the 
guilt  of  the  land,  and  excite  the  wrath  of  the  Almighty. 

We  read  that  when  Nineveh  was  threatened  by  the 
prophet  Jonah,  the  king  proclaimed  a  fast.  "  '  And  he 
arose  from  his  throne,  and  he  laid  his  robe  from  him, 
and  covered  himself  with  sackcloth,  and  sat  in  ashes.' 
And  the  whole  city  was  clad  in  the  habiliments  of  sor- 
row. Yea,  the  very  cattle  were  deprived  of  their  usual 
sustenance,  that  by  their  mournful  lowing,  they  might 
increase  the  solemnity  of  the  occasion.  And,  in  con- 
sequence of  this  public  and  universal  humiliation,  the 
Lord  spared  the  city.  If,  on  this  day,  set  apart  as  a 
season  of  national  fasting  and  prayer,  our  honored 
Chief  Magistrate,  with  his  distinguished  associates  in 
the  government,  has  cast  aside  the  pomp  and  ceremoni- 
als of  office,  and  has  prostrated  himself  in  humility 
before  his  God,  and  if  a  loud  and  fervent  cry  for  mercy 
has  ascended  from  a  million  of  penitent  hearts  in  all 
parts  of  this  bleeding  country,  may  we  not  humbly 
trust  that  our  prayers  will  be  heard  ;  that  our  sins  as 


116  THE   HOPE   OF  THE  NATION. 

a  nation  shall  be  blotted  out,  that  the  judgments  of 
heaven  will  be  arrested,  and  that  rich  and  abundant 
blessings  such  as  God  alone  can  besto^v,  will  visit  all 
our  borders  ?  '  Then  shall  the  earth  yield  her  increase ; 
and  God,  even  our  own  God,  shall  bless  us.'  " 


THE  GLOEY  OF  THE  OHUECH. 

Preached  at  Bethel  Church  (near  Oakland  College),  on  taking  the  pastoral 
charge  of  said  church,  April  23,  1843. 


"  The  King^s  daughter  is  all  glorious  luithin." — 
Psalm  45 :  13.  This  language  is  figurative.  By  "  the 
King's  daughter  "  is  meant  the  Church.  And  by  the 
Church  is  meant — the  body  of  all  true  believers  of  every 
name  and  country,  however  separated  by  national  or 
ecclesiastical  barriers.  What,  are  we  informed,  consti- 
tutes the  glory  of  the  Church?  Something  which  is 
internal.  "  The  King's  daughter  is  all  glorious  within." 
JSTow,  if  the  glory  of  the  universal  Church  be  internal, 
the  glory  of  every  particular  branch  of  the  Church  must 
be  internal  likewise.  Because,  whatever  is  true  of  the 
whole,  must  be  true  of  all  the  several  parts.  Conse- 
quently the  glory  of  every  individual  Christian,  as  well 
as  of  every  particular  denomination,  is  internal  glory — 
the  glory  of  the  inner  man — a  glory  arising  not  from 
external  splendor,  but  from  internal  tempers  and  graces. 
"  The  King's  daughter  is  all  glorious  within."  "  The 
kingdom  of  heaven  is  not  meat  and  drink,  but  right- 
ousness,  and  peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost." 

Taking  the  text  as  our  infallible  guide,  let  us  pro- 
ceed to  enquire  in  what  consists  the  true  glory  of  a  par- 
ticular local  church  or  denomination  of  Christians. 

In  w^hat  does  it  not  consist  ? 

1.  It  does  not  necessarily  consist  in  wealth.  The  pos- 
session of  ample  pecuniary  means  is  not  essential  to  the 
health  or  vigor  of  a  particular  denomination.     The 


118        THE  GLORY  OF  THE  CHURCH. 

moral  power  of  a  Church  is  often  impaired  instead  of 
being  increased  by  the  influence  of  great  temporal  re- 
sources. There  are  two  forms  in  which  a  Church  may 
possess  wealth.  It  may  consist  either  in  the  wealth  of 
its  individual  members,  or  in  the  possession  of  vested 
funds.  If  in  the  former,  these  results  will  most  gener- 
ally follow — a  sufficiency  of  pecuniary  means  to  sustain 
the  Church  is  obtained  without  a  struggle;  conse- 
quently there  exists  no  powerful  cause  to  beget  a  deep 
sense  of  dependence  on  God.  The  pecuniary  burdens 
of  the  Church,  are,  in  that  case,  usually  borne  by  a  few. 
These  few,  because  of  their  wealth  or  importance,  are 
strongly  tempted  to  arrogate  to  themselves  dangerous 
prerogatives,  to  frown  upon  their  poor  brethren,  aud 
even  to  interfere  with  the  pastor  in  the  faithful  dis- 
charge of  his  duties.  Or,  does  the  wealth  of  a  Churcli 
consist  in  vested  funds  ?  Consequences  still  more  inju- 
rious are  liable  to  ensue.  These  funds  give  rise  to  a 
spirit  of  contention.  Various  and  contradictory  are  the 
plans  proposed  for  their  disbursement;  and  hypocritical 
and  designing  men  often  insinuate  themselves  into  the 
pale  of  the  Church,  and  pervert  these  funds  from  their 
original  purposes.  Facts  to  substantiate  these  remarks 
might  be  easily  adduced. 

But  let  a  denomination  be  comparatively  poor ;  let  it 
experience  difficulty  as  it  respects  its  pecuniary  con- 
cerns, and  this  very  difficulty  will  prove  a  benefit.  It 
will  beget  a  sense  of  dependence  of  God.  It  will  tend 
to  awake  up  the  energies  of  the  whole  Church;  to  bring 
into  requisition  the  services  of  every  member,  and  cause 
every  individual  to  feel  that  he  is  called  upon  to  bear 
his  part  of  the  common  burden.  And  just  in  proportion 
to  the  difficulties  to  be  encountered,  and  in  proportion 
to  the  degree  in  which  these  difficulties  are  met  and 
borne  by  the  entire  mass  of  the  Church,  will  the  interest 


THE  GLORY   OF  THE   CHURCH.  119 

which  will  be  uwukened,  and  the  energy  tind  vigor 
which  will  pervade  the  entire  denomination.  For  noth- 
ing tends  more  powerfully  to  cement  societies  or  empires 
together,  than  a  sense  of  common  weakness,  or  an  ap- 
prehension of  common  danger.  And  nothing  is  more 
calculated  to  beget  a  deep  interest  in  any  object  or  pos- 
session, than  the  labor  and  care  which  have  been  be- 
stowed upon  it.  Comparative  poverty,  pecuniary  diffi- 
culties, personal  self-denial,  often  aid  materially  in 
building  up  a  Church. 

2.  The  glory  of  a  Church  does  not  consist  in  mem- 
bers. How  often  has  a  feeling  of  despondency  insensi- 
bly pervaded  a  denomination  and  paralyzed  its  energies, 
merely  from  the  fe"\vuess  of  its  adherents;  from  a  small 
membership — a  thin  audience.  And,  on  the  other  hand, 
how  frequently  have  very  unholy  feelings  and  sentiments 
been  begotten,  from  the  fact  that  the  Church  is  large,  its 
members  numerous,  and  its  stated  services  attract 
crowds  of  hearers.  There  is  something  exceedingly  flat- 
tering to  human  pride,  in  the  face  of  numbers.  The 
consciousness  that  our  cause  is  popular — that  we  are 
enrolled  with  the  majority — that  there  is  a  large  multi- 
tude who  are  acting  in  concert  with  us — is  calculated  to 
beget  a  train  of  feelings  by  no  means  in  accordance  with 
the  humility  of  the  Gospel.  Under  such  circumstances, 
the  Church  is  in  danger  of  being  caressed  merely  be- 
cause it  is  fashionable.  There  is  great  danger,  also,  that 
excitement  will  be  mistaken  for  religion,  that  persons 
may  be  admitted  upon  very  slight  inquiry  into  their 
qualifications,  and  that  hypocrites  and  designing  per- 
sons may  enroll  themselves  among  the  dominant  party, 
golely  from  selfish  and  sinister  purposes  ;  until,  erelong, 
the  Church,  trusting  wholly  to  her  own  strength,  loses 
sight  of  her  great  heavenly  reliance.  But,  on  the  con- 
trary, what  more  clearly  indicates  the  sincerity  and  ster- 


120        THE  GLORY  OF  THE  CHURCH. 

ling  integrity  of  a  Church  ?  When  her  friends  adhere 
to  her  through  evil  as  well  as  through  good  report;  even 
when  her  members  are  few,  when  her  cause  is  unpopu- 
lar, and  the  w^orld  treat  her  with  contempt.  Then  her 
friends,  few  and  solitary,  cling  more  closely  around  her. 
Then  their  hearts  become  knit  together  as  the  heart  of 
one  man ;  and  trusting  not  to  an  arm  of  flesh,  rely  more 
implicitly  on  the  arm  of  the  Lord.  Then  it  is  they  can 
plead  the  promise  of  Scripture — "Fear  not,  little 
flock,"  "  Where  two  or  three  are  met  together  in  my 
name,  there  am  I  in  the  midst  of  them."  Oh,  it  is  easy 
and  pleasant  to  go  with  the  multitude.  But  to  stem 
the  current ;  to  breast  the  storm  ;  to  maintain  an  attach- 
ment to  a  cause  which  has  but  few  adherents ;  it  is  this 
which  tests  the  character ;  it  is  this  which  lightens  all 
the  Christian  graces,  and  evinces  a  lofty  and  magnani- 
mous soul. 

3.  The  glory  of  a  Church  does  not  consist  in  impos- 
ing and  attractive  forms  of  worship ;  in  the  eloquence 
of  her  ministry ;  in  the  splendor  of  her  architecture ;  in 
the  visible  impressiveness  of  her  stated  ceremonies. 
History  declares  that  the  Church  has  often  flourished 
most  and  been  most  glorious  within,  when  persecuted 
without ;  when  her  members  have  had  to  take  refuge  in 
caves  and  mountain-tops  from  the  storms  of  persecutions. 
True,  there  is  no  essential  inconsistency  between  true 
piety  and  impressive  external  ceremonies.  But  when  does 
there  exist  the  greatest  danger  of  mistaking  mere  forms 
for  true  religion  ?  of  substituting  the  excitement  of  the 
imagination  for  the  devotion  of  the  heart  ?  It  is  when 
wealth,  and  taste,  and  fashion  combine  their  influence 
to  array  Christianity  in  borrowed  plumes  beneath  the 
splendid  domes  of  some  time-hallowed  pile ;  where  the 
dim  religious  light  streams  through  carved  openings, 
and  architecture  and  dazzling  priestly  vestments  com- 


THE  GLORY   OF  THE    CHUBCH.  121 

bine  with  the  solemn  music  of  the  full-toned  organ,  to 
impart  an  unearthly  grandeur  to  the  scene.  There  the 
senses  may  be  feasted  while  the  heart  remains  untouched. 
There  tears  may  flow,  but  not  the  tears  of  penitence. 
There  the  whole  soul  may  be  elevated  by  a  species  of 
ecstasy  ;  and  after  gaziug  for  an  hour  upon  the  gaudy 
pantomime,  return  with  greater  zest  to  the  lusts  of  pleas- 
ure of  an  irreligious.  Oh,  be  not  deceived  ;  "  God  is  a 
spirit,  and  they  that  worshij^  him  must  worship  him 
in  spirit  and  in  truth." 

Having  thus  briefly  dwelt  upon  the  negative  part  of 
our  subject,  we  come  now  to  dwell  upon  its  positive 
import.  Having  shown  in  what  the  glory  of  the  Church 
does  not  consist,  let  us  now^  show  in  what  it  does  con- 
sist. The  text  declares  that  it  consists  in  something 
wiiich  is  internal.  "The  king's  daughter  is  all  glorious 
within."  1.  The  glory  of  the  Church  consists  in  her 
doctrinal  purity:  in  her  being  the  depository  of  the 
truth — the  advocate  and  the  guardian  of  the  great  lead- 
ing doctrines  of  the  Gospel.  A  sound  and  scrij^tural 
creed  lies  at  the  foundation  of  all  holy  obedience.  Where 
there  exists  in  a  Church  no  doctrinal  purity,  it  is  impos- 
sible long  to  maintain  holiness  of  heart  and  life  among 
her  members.  There  can  be  no  elevated  morality  where 
there  are  no  sound  religious  princii^les.  If  we  think 
wrong  we  will  act  wrong.  The  creed  and  the  conduct 
will  always  go  together.  Hence,  where  a  Church  is  un- 
sound in  her  doctrines,  she  will  be  unsound  and  unholy 
in  her  practice.  Hence,  God  has  committed  to  his 
Church  the  sacred  principles  and  ordinances  of  the  Gos- 
pel, and  the  Church  is  commanded  to  maintain  them  at 
all  hazards,  and  transmit  them  pure  and  unadulterated 
from  age  to  age.  To  this  end,  we  are  commanded  to 
"  contend  earnestly  for  the  faith  once  delivered  to  the 
saints" — "to  buy  the  truth  and  sell  it  not" — "to  write 

6 


122  THE  GLORY  OF  THE   CHURCH. 

it  upon  our  hearts" — "to  bind  it  as  frontlets  upon  our 
foreheads,  and  to  teach  it  to  our  children,  and  to  medi- 
tate upon  it  when  we  lie  down,  and  when  we  rise  up." 
When,  then,  is  the  ''  King's  daughter  all  glorious  with- 
in?" When  her  ministers  and  her  members  proclaim 
to  the  world  that  there  is  but  one  living  and  true  God — 
existing  in  three  persons,  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the 
Holy  Ghost — that  the  Scriptures  are  the  only  infallible 
guide  of  faith  and  practice — that  man  is  a  sinner,  lost 
and  ruined  by  the  fall — his  whole  soul  utterly  depraved 
and  exposed  to  the  wrath  and  curse  of  God — that  salva- 
tion can  be  obtained  only  through  the  blood  of  Jesus 
Christ — that  the  heart  must  be  regenerated  by  the 
power  of  fhe  Holy  Ghost — that  man  must  lead  a  holy 
life,  or  else  his  profession  of  religion  is  vain — "  that  God 
has  appointed  a  day  in  which  he  will  judge  the  world," 
"  when  the  Lord  Jesus  will  descend  from  heaven  with  a 
shout,"  "  when  the  heavens  shall  pass  away,  and  the  ele- 
ments shall  melt  with  fervent  heat."  When  these  great 
truths  are  believed  in  all  sincerity — proclaimed  from  the 
pulpit  with  all  fidelity,  and  when  they  produce  a  holy 
influence  upon  the  external  conduct  of  those  who  be- 
lieve them,  then  the  glory  of  the  Church  will  shine  forth, 
and  '-  Zion  will  arise  from  the  dust,  put  on  her  beautiful 
garments,  and  appear,  fair  as  the  moon,  clear  as  the  sun, 
and  terrible  as  an  army  with  banners." 

2.  The  glory  of  a  church  consists  in  her  spirituality— 
in  her  cultivation  of  heart-religion — in  her  tenderness 
of  feeling,  ardor  of  love,  and  fervency  of  devotion.  Let 
none  suppose  we  would  exalt  mere  orthodoxy  of  creed 
above  the  more  important  possession  of  experimental 
godliness.  No :  faith  without  works  is  dead.  Such  a 
faith  will  save  no  man.  It  will  only  deepen  his  future 
damnation.  "For  he  that  knoweth  his  Master's  will 
and  doeth  it  not,  the  same  shall  be  beaten  with  many 


THE   GLORY  OF  THE    CHURCH.  123 

stripes."  An  orthodox  creed  without  a  holy  heart,  is  a 
mere  shadow  without  substance — a  house  without  a 
foundation — a  dead  carcass  without  an  animating  prin- 
ciple of  life — a  palace  of  ice,  beautiful  externally,  but 
within  it  is  chilliness  and  death.  "Though  I  speak 
with  the  tongues  of  men  and  of  angels,  and  have  not 
charity,  I  am  become  as  sounding  brass,  or  a  tinkling 
cymbal.  And  though  I  have  the  gift  of  prophecy,  and 
understand  all  mysteries,  and  all  knowledge ;  and  though 
I  have  all  faith,  so  that  I  could  remove  mountains,  and 
have  not  charity,  or  love,  it  profiteth  me  nothing." 
And  what  is  this  love,  to  which  the  apostle  attaches 
such  infinite  value  ?  Love  for  communion  with  God — 
love  for  secret  prayer — love  for  the  Holy  Scriptures — 
love  for  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ — love  for  the  ordinances 
of  the  Church — love  for  all  true  Christians — love  for  our 
bitterest  enemies.  Oh,  it  is  when  Christians  entertain 
these  feelings,  that  the  Church  becomes  "  all  glorious 
within." 

3.  The  glory  of  a  Church  consists  in  the  harmony  of 
its  members.  "  Behold,  how  good  and  how  pleasant  it 
is  for  brethren  to  dwell  together  in  unity !  It  is  like 
precious  ointment  upon  the  head,  that  ran  down  upon 
the  beard,  even  Aaron's  beard ;  that  went  down  to  the 
skirts  of  his  garments;  as  the  dew  of  Hermon,  and  as 
the  dew  that  descended  upon  the  mountains  of  Zion : 
for  there  the  Lord  commanded  the  blessing,  even  life 
for  evermore."  Nothing  more  powerfully  illustrates  the 
divinity  of  our  holy  religion,  than  a  oneness  of  feeling, 
of  sentiment,  and  of  action,  among  its  professors.  And 
why  should  it  not  be  so?  How  gloriously  was  this  ex- 
hibited on  the  day  of  Pentecost:  "And  when  the  day 
of  Pentecost  was  fully  come,  they  were  all  with  one  ac- 
cord in  one  place.  And  suddenly  there  came  a  sound 
from  heaven,  as  of  a  rushing  mighty  wind,  and  it  filled 


124  THE   GLORY   OF  THE   CHURCH. 

all  the  house  Avliere  they  were  sitting.  And  there  ap- 
peared unto  them  cloven  tongues  like  as  of  fire,  and  it 
sat  upon  each  of  them.  And  they  were  all  filled  with 
the  Holy  Ghost,  and  began  to  speak  with  other  tongues, 
as  the  Spirit  gave  them  utterance."  Then  was  the 
Church  '*all  glorious  within."  Christians  bore  the  im- 
j)ress  of  the  divine  image  in  their  hearts,  and  brought 
forth  the  fruits  of  holiness  in  their  lives.  Ministers  and 
people  felt  a  common  impulse.  They  had  one  heart, 
one  hope,  and  one  interest.  "The  love  of  Christ  con- 
strained them,"  and  losing  sight  of  all  party  feuds  and 
personal  animosities,  they  were  wholly  absorbed  in  one 
sublime  object,  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  salvation  of 
the  souls  of  men.  And  that  object  was  attained.  The 
Holy  Ghost  came  down,  and  three  thousand  were  added 
in  one  day.  Now  let  Christians  in  our  day,  unite  to- 
gether in  the  same  harmonious  union — let  them  all 
come  together  with  one  accord,  in  one  place — full  of 
faith,  full  of  zeal,  full  of  brotherly  love,  and  effects  as 
glorious  would  be  sure  to  follow.  The  whole  united 
energy  of  the  Church,  concentrated  in  this  one  grand 
object,  would  call  down  the  influences  of  the  spirit  of 
God.  A  deep  solemnity  would  pervade  all  classes.  But 
why  the  low  state  of  piety  in  the  Church  ?  The  aliena- 
tions, the  strifes,  and  the  unhallowed  divisions  of  Chris- 
tians. "One  is  for  Paul,  another  for  Apollos,  and  few 
for  Christ."  One  finds  fault  with  the  preacher ;  another 
complains  of  being  slighted  by  his  brethren;  a  third  is 
given  to  a  continued  spirit  of  fault-finding ;  and  mur- 
muring, and  envyings,  and  heart-burnings  mar  the  beauty 
of  Zion.  "  And  the  Spirit,  like  a  peaceful  dove,  flees 
from  the  scenes  of  noise  and  strife." 


UNIVEESAL  BENEVOLENCE. 

An  address  preached    before  the  Young  Men's    Christian  Association  of 
Houston,  August,  1873. 


^'  As  we  have,  therefore,  opporhmiti/,  let  us  do  good 
unto  all  men;  especially  to  them,  who  are  of  the  house- 
hold of  faith." — Gulatians,  G  :  10.  Those  who  "are  of 
the  household  of  faith,"  have  special  claims  upon  the 
benevolence  of  their  brethren ;  for  they  have  com- 
menced a  life  of  peculiar  trials,  have  espoused  a  cause 
to  which  is  often  attached  peculiar  odium,  and  against 
which  are  often  arrayed  enemies  of  no  common  viru- 
lence. Hence  they  need  a  peculiar  and  unusual  share 
of  fraternal  sympathy  and  aid.  From  these  considera- 
tions, however,  we  are  by  no  means  to  infer  that  this 
class  of  our  fellow-men  are  to  be  exclusive  objects  of 
our  love.  We  must  "  do  good  unto  all  men."  Where'er 
there  is  a  sufferer  throughout  the  immense  brotherhood 
of  man,  there  must  love  hover  on  her  downy  pinion. 
Like  the  knight-errant  in  the  days  of  chivalry,  who 
roamed  the  earth  to  punish  proud  oppressors,  and  vin- 
dicate the  trodden-down  rights  of  the  friendless,  so 
must  man  sally  forth  with  a  hand  to  succor  and  a  heart 
to  feel ;  prompt  to  every  call  of  mercy  ;  equipped,  as  op- 
portunity may  present,  to  dispel  ignorance,  to  soothe 
sorrow,  to  reclaim  the  wanderer  from  the  path  of  virtue, 
and  wipe  the  cold  sweat  from  the  brow  of  the  dying. 

/  shall  attempt  to  advocate  the  claims  of  universal 
henevolence.     Why  7nust  we  do  good  unto  all  men  ? 


126  UNIVEESAL  BENEVOLENCE. 

1.  Universal  benevolence  constitutes  the  true  dignity 
of  man. 

Under  no  other  garb  does  human  nature  present  a 
more  sublime  aspect.  He  who  is  actuated  by  the  ex- 
pansive spirit  of  doing  good ;  he  who  aspires  to  be  not 
a  mere  passive  recipient,  but  an  active,  a  muniticent  dis- 
tributer of  blessings,  feels  that  he  is  born  for  a  high 
and  noble  destiny.  Hence  he  learns  to  look  down  with 
abhorrence  upon  all  that  is  base,  tyrannical,  and  bigoted. 
He  gradually  gains  the  mastery  over  his  evil  passions; 
bursts  the  chains  of  selfishness  and  pride;  overleaps  the 
narrow  bounds  of  sectarian  exclusiveness ;  obtains  an 
effectual  antidote  against  the  undue  love  of  money,  and 
throws  wqde  the  doors  of  his  heart  to  the  entrance  of 
every  generous  and  philanthropic  impulse^  Must  not 
that  be  the  most  exalted  species  of  human  nobleness, 
which  gives  birth  to  feelings  and  results  like  these  ? 
The  possession  of  this  virtue  constitutes  the  true  dignity 
of  man,  for  it  leads  directly  and  necessarily  to  an  ob- 
servance of  the  holy  Decalogue.  "  Love  is  the  fulfilling 
of  the  law."  Let  universal  benevolence  become  the 
prevailing  temper  of  the  heart.  And  how  can  its  pos- 
sessor, for  one  moment,  endure  the  thought  of  assailing 
a  fellow-mortaj's  person,  or  breathing  a  whisper  of 
calumny  against  his  reputation,  or  violating  his  rights 
of  property,  or  coveting  his  dear  and  most  cherished 
possessions?  Benevolence  is  man's  true  dignity,  for  it 
assimilates  him  to  all  the  great  and  noble  beings  in  the 
universe.  It  causes  him  to  bear  some  resemblance  to 
Almighty  God.  "God  is  love."  His  very  existence 
constitutes  a  boundless  ocean  of  benevolence.  It  causes 
him  to  resemble  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that  glorious 
Prince  of  benefactors.  It  elevates  him  to  a  place  among 
the  most  exalted  and  renowned  spirits  that  have  ever 
trod  the  earth — the  Washingtons,  the  La  Fayettes,  and 


UNIVERSAL  BENEVOLENCE.  127 

the  Howards ;  men  avIio  lived,  and  toiled,  and  wept  for 
the  good  of  their  fellow-men  ;  the  effects  of  whose  bene- 
factions will  be  coeval  with  Time ;  the  measure  of  whose 
fame  will  be  boundless  as  Eternity.  It  is  the  spirit  of 
expanded  benevolence  which  lives  and  breathes  through 
all  the  works  of  nature.  Every  object  througliout  the 
vast  material  univej'se,  seems  to  exist  on  ])urpose  to  do 
good,  to  communicate  blessings  to  other  beings,  while 
it  apparently  makes  no  provision  for  itself  The  glori- 
ous sun,  the  rolling  ocean,  the  rivers,  the  silvery  moun- 
tain streamlet,  the  many-colored  rainbow,  the  enameled 
flowers,  the  dappled  morn,  the  bending  fruits  of  autumn 
— all,  all  are  continually  pouring  forth  streams  of  pure 
beneficence  into  the  laj:)  of  man,  whilst  they  take  back 
no  blessing  in  return.  All  nature  is  '*  beauty  to  the  eye, 
or  music  to  the  ear."  And  will  that  which  gives  so 
much  loveliness  and  grandeur  to  nature,  impart  no 
moral  sublimity  and  dignity  to  man  ? 

2.  Universal  benevolence  constitutes  the  true  happi- 
ness of  man. 

All  those  other  sources  to  which  mankind  usually  re- 
sort for  pleasure — such  as  fame,  wealth,  exemption  from 
pain  and  care — are  often  very  difficult  to  be  found;  or 
if  found,  are  most  difficult  to  be  retained ;  or  if  retained, 
and  indulged  in  beyond  a  certain  limit,  recoil  upon  the 
heart  surcharged  with  a  load  of  remorse,  satiety,  and 
disgust.  But  here  is  one  pure  fountain,  to  which  every 
thirsty  soul  may  have  free  and  unobstructed  access. 
The  crystal  streams  flow  perennially.  The  channel 
never  dries.  Of  its  healthful  waters  full  and  frequent 
draughts  may  be  imbibed,  and  lU)  loathing  disrelish 
will  e'er  ensue. 

The  pleasures  of  benevolence  are  of  two  kinds  :  posi- 
tive and  negative.  It  creates  happiness;  it  prevents  ?nis- 
ery.    And  if  the  blessing  of  benevolence  was  merely  of 


128  UNIYEESAL  BENEVOLENCE. 

the  latter  kind,  it  would  constitute  the  most  desirable 
of  all  possessions.  For,  let  it  once  gain  entrance  into 
the  heart,  and  how  instantaneously  will  it  drive  out  a 
legion  of  diabolical  passions — envy,  anger,  covetousness, 
revenge — passions  that  rankle  in  the  heart  like  barbed 
arrows,  sting  like  scorpions,  gnaw  like  vultures ;  and 
ever  aud  anon  bursting  forth  like  the  smoldering  fires 
of  a  hidden  volcano,  roll  their  scalding  lava  over  society. 
But  pour  the  oil  of  pure  philanthropy  into  the  soul,  and 
the  billows  cease  to  roll ;  the  storm  subsides  into  a 
placid  calm. 

Is  this  the  only  species  of  negative  happiness  which 
benevolence  occasions  ?  It  is  not.  The  God  of  heaven 
has  so  constituted  man,  that  not  more  than  one-half  of 
his  existence  is  absolutely  requisite  for  needful  toil, 
sleep,  and  animal  indulgence.  Consequently,  as  a  gen- 
eral rule,  every  human  being  has  a  large  surplus  of 
time,  talent,  and  energy,  over  and  above  what  is  neces- 
sary for  his  own  use.  A  very  important  question  then 
here  arises:  How  shall  this  siirphisage  be  enqjloyed? 
In  what  way  shall  it  be  expended?  To  what  cause 
shall  it  be  sacredly  devoted  ?  Benevolence  would  gladly 
step  in  and  borrow  it  of  man ;  and  after  having  employed 
it  in  her  sacred  service,  pour  a  glorious  compensation 
into  the  owner's  bosom.  But  man  will  not  accept  of 
the  overture.  This  precious  capital,  instead  of  being 
made  to  yield  a  daily  revenue  of  unalloyed  pleasure,  is 
most  wickedly  perverted  ;  and  by  being  so,  generates  a 
countless  train  of  woes.  "  What  shall  we  do  to  get  rid 
of  this  useless  portion  of  our  existence?  how  shall  we 
kill  time?"  is  the  constant  aim  of  multitudes. 

One  seems  to  aspire  to  no  higher  honor  than  the  life 
of  a  mere  animal.  He  has  eat  and  drank  and  slept  like 
a  stall-fed  ox,  until  at  last  he  can  endure  it  no  longer. 
And  linked  to  his  species  by  no  strong  ties  of  sympa- 


UNIVERSAL  BENEVOLENCE.  129 

thetic  feeling,  absorbed  and  elevated  by  no  grand  object 
of  pursuit,  life  becomes  an  intolerable  burden ;  the  world, 
a  gloomy  prison-house ;  and  raising  his  suicidal  hand, 
he  plunges  the  dagger  to  his  own  heart,  and  rushes  un- 
bidden into  eternity.  AuQther  has  too  great  dread 
of  death,  thus  suddenly  to  let  go  his  hold  on  life.  But 
still,  he  has  unoccupied  time  and  unemployed  energies, 
which  hang  heavy  on  liis  hands;  and  what  shall  he  do 
with  them  ?  He  turns  lazy  monk,  or  musing  anchorite. 
Behold  a  third.  He  has  spent  many  a  year  of  toil  and 
care,  to  accumulate  wealth.  At  last  he  has  attained  his 
object.  And  now  what  shall  he  do  with  the  remainder 
of  his  days?  How  shall  he  enjoy  his  dear-bought  pos- 
sessions ?  V  Oh,  this  he  will  do :  he  will  retire  from  busi- 
ness, and  having  bought  him  a  beautiful  villa  far  from 
the  bustling  throng,  he  Avill  there  doze  out  the  remainder 
of  his  days  in  calm  retirement — a  second  Cincinnatus  or 
Sage  of  Monticello ;  forgetting,  however,  tliat  he  has  no 
fountains  of  enjoyment,  as  they  had,  in  his  own  breast. 
And  no  sooner,  then,  is  he  fairly  housed  in  his  new 
retreat,  than  he  falls  a  prey  to  the  most  morbid  melan- 
choly; and  unless  he  speedily  retake  himself  to  his 
former  bustling  occupation,  he  will  die  of  premature  old 
age,  or  sink  into  all  the  whims  and  frailties  of  a  second 
childhood.  Behold  a  fourth.  He  is  determined  that  lie 
will  not  die,  like  his  purse-proud  neighbor,  of  gout  or 
ennui;  but  will  keep  on  at  the  goodly  and  respectable 
occupation  of  making  money.  Wan  and  care-worn,  he 
pursues  his  ceaseless  round — counts  his  bags  and  cons 
his  ledger;  until  at  last  he  falls  a  victim  to  a  most 
wretched  monomania;  avarice  lays  her  cold  clutches 
upon  his  stinted  soul;  money,  money,  is  his  god — "give, 
give,"  like  the  horse-leech's  daughter.  And  finally, 
death  tears  him  from  his  idol,  and  throws  his  worthless 
body  to  the  worms.    There  is  still  another,  perhaps 


130  UNIVERSAL  BENEVOLENCE. 

somewhat  singular  in  the  plan  he  adopts,  to  squander 
the  precious  surplus  capital  with  which  nature  hath  en- 
dowed him : 

"This  is  your  modern  man  of  fashion— 
A  man  of  taste  and  dissipation  : 
A  busy  man  without  employment, 
A  happy  man  without  enjoyment. 
In  sleep,  and  dress,  and  sport,  and  play, 
He  throws  his  worthless  life  away. 
Has  no  opinion  of  his  own, 
But  takes  from  leading  beaux  the  ton. 
Custom  pursues,  his  only  rule, 
And  lives  an  ape  and  dies  a  fool." 

Now  what  a  blessed  antidote  to  all  these  miserable 
modes  of  dragging  out  life,  of  murdering  existence,  does 
benevolence  propose.  Take  that  surplus  of  time,  talent, 
and  energy,  which  you  do  not  need  lor  your  own  wants, 
and  the  squandering  of  which  causes  so  much  sin  and 
folly,  and  expend  it  in  the  cause  of  others.  "  Go  about 
doing  good."  Open  thine  eyes  upon  a  world  of  misery. 
Instruct  the  ignorant,  reclaim  the  vicious,  espouse  the 
cause  of  the  friendless.  Seek  out  retiring  merit  and 
unrequited  virtue  from  tlieir  secret  abodes,  and  demand 
for  them  a  public  reward.  Aid  in  sending  the  Gospel 
to  the  heathen.  Oh,  let  the  wail  of  the  orphan  and  the 
tears  of  the  widow — let  the  piteous  tale  of  the  penniless, 
the  groans  that  issue  from  dungeons  and  battle-fields, 
from  families  escaping  from  their  blazing  habitations, 
and  mariners  wrecked  upon  the  ocean,  reach  thine  ears, 
and  pierce  thine  heart,  and  nerve  thy  soul  to  noble  deeds 
of  charity.  Then  thine  energies  will  never  stagnate; 
then  thy  sympathies  in  life  will  never  expire  for  want 
of  nutriment ;  then  thou  wilt  never  become  a  prey  to 
melancholy,  nor  life  hang  heavy  on  thy  hands,  because 
of  no  great  object  of  pursuit  to  give  healthful  occupa- 
tion to  thy  powers. 


UNRTEKS^U.  BENEVOLENCE.  131 

Such  are  some  of  the  mere  negative  portions  of  the 
pleasures  of  benevolence.  But,  in  addition  to  all  this, 
she  has  happiness  of  a  jjositive  kind,  joys  of  her  own 
creation,  pure  fountains  in  the  heart,  of  which  none  can 
taste  but  their  own  possessor.  For  there  is  the  fervent 
prayer  of  the  poor;  tliere  is  the  tear  of  gratitude  trick- 
ling down  the  cheek;  and  the  heart-felt  invocation  of 
heaven's  richest  blessing  on  thy  soul,  uttered  by  him 
thou  hast  so  timely  succored.  There,  too,  is  the  joy  of 
giving,  the  luxury  of  doing  good,  sweeter  to  the  soul 
than  music's  richest  melody,  or  the  gush  of  water  in  the 
desert  to  the  thirsty  pilgrim.  Oh,  if  there  be  a  foretaste 
of  angel's  food  on  earth,  it  is  the  consciousness  of  having 
done  a  noble  action,  of  having  dried  a  mourner's  tears, 
or  stanched  one  bleeding  w^onnd  in  sorrow's  breast. 

"  This  world's  not '  all  a  fleeting  sliow, 

For  man's  illusion  given  ; ' 
He  tliat  hatli  soothed  a  widow's  woe. 
Or  wiped  an  orphan's  tears,  doth  know 

There  is  something  here  of  heaven." 

"It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive."  "The 
liberal  soul  shall  be  made  fat;  and  he  that  watereth, 
shall  be  watered  also  himself"  While  he  that  has  no 
boon  to  bestow  upon  his  species,  is  the  meanest  of  all 
God's  creatures.    He  has  no  music  in  his  soul.     He  is 

"  Creation's  blot,  creation's  blank  ; 
Whom  none  can  love,  whom  none  can  thank." 

Power  will  cause  you  to  be  feared;  learning,  to  be 
admired ;  wealth  and  beauty,  to  be  flattered.  But  naught 
but  benevolence  will  cause  you  to  be  truly  loved.  And 
when  thou  diest,  tears  of  gratitude  will  be  poured  out 
like  sweet  incense  on  thy  tomb,  and  children  yet  unborn 
shall  lisp  with  reverence  thy  name. 

3.  The  virtue  which  we  advocate  is  the  very  essence 
of  true  piety. 


13'2  UNIYERSAL  BENEVOLENCE. 

In  proof  of  tliis  position,  hear  tlie  plain  and  positive 
declarations  of  God's  word.  1  John  4  :  20 :  "  If  a  man 
say,  I  love  God,  aod  hateth  his  brother,  he  is  a  liar;  for 
he  that  loveth  not  his  brother  whom  he  hath  seen,  how 
can  he  love  God  whom  he  hath  not  seen  ?  "  James  2  : 
15,  16:  "If  a  brother  or  sister  be  naked,  and  destitute 
of  daily  food;  and  one  of  you  say  unto  them,  depart  in 
peace,  be  ye  warmed,  and  filled;  notwithstanding  ye 
give  them  uot  those  things  which  are  needful  to  the 
body ;  what  doth  it  profit  ?  "  "  Pure  religion  and  unde- 
filed  before  God  and  the  Father  is  this,  to  visit  the 
fatherless  and  widows  in  their  affliction,  and  to  keep 
one's  self  unspotted  from  the  world."  And  at  the  awful 
day  of  judgment,  after  the  glorious  temple  of  truth  and 
righteousness,  which  is  now  erecting  on  this  earth,  shall 
have  received  its  completion,  and  "  Grace,  Grace,"  shall 
be  the  shout  of  heaven's  anthem  at  the  laying  of  the 
top-stone,  and  when  the  mighty  Architect  shall  come 
down  to  review  the  work,  and  knock  away  this  external 
scaffolding,  and  pay  off  the  laborers,  "  then  shall  he  sit 
upon  the  throne  of  his  glory ;  and  before  him  shall  be 
gathered  all  nations;  and  he  shall  separate  them  one 
from  another,  as  a  shepherd  divideth  his  sheep  from  the 
goats.  And  he  shall  set  the  sheep  on  the  right  hand, 
but  the  goats  on  the  left.  Then  shall  the  King  say  to 
them  on  his  right  hand.  Come  ye  blessed  of  my  Father, 
inherit  the  kingdom  prepared  for  you  from  the  founda- 
tion of  the  world.  For  I  was  an  hungered,  and  ye  gave 
me  meat;  I  was  thirsty,  and  ye  gave  me  drink;  I  was  a 
stranger,  and  ye  took  me  in ;  naked,  and  ye  clothed  me ; 
I  was  sick,  and  ye  visited  me;  I  was  in  prison,  and  ye 
came  unto  me.  Then  shall  the  righteous  (bowed  down 
with  a  sense  of  their  great  unworthiness  and  many  im- 
perfections) answer  him,  saying,  Lord,  when  sa^  we 
thee  an  hungered,  and  fed  thee  ?  or  thirsty,  and  gave 


UNIYERSAL   BENEVOLENCE.  133 

thee  drink  ?  When  stiw  we  tlice  <i  stranger,  and  took 
ihee  in  ?  or  naked,  and  clothed  tliee  ?  or  wlien  saw  we 
thee  sick,  or  in  prison,  and  came  unto  thee?  And  the 
King  shall  answer,  and  say  unto  them,  Verily  I  say  unto 
you,  inasmuch  as  ye  done  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of 
these  my  brethren,  ye  have  done  it  unto  me."  (For  the 
poor  are  my  representatives  on  earth.  I  myself  was 
once  a  homeless  wanderer;  and  while  the  foxes  had 
holes,  and  the  birds  of  the  air  had  nests,  the  son  of  man 
had  not  where  to  lay  his  head.) 

The  aAvards  of  the  great  day,  you  perceive,  will  turn 
upon  the  discharge  or  neglect  of  these  six  charities. 
The  Judge  then  will  not  ask,  '*  Have  ye  possessed  mere 
cold  and  heartless  orthodoxy,  or  flaming  zeal  ?  Have 
ye  punctiliously  adhered  to  certain  rites  and  ceremonies, 
or  contended  with  unseemly  w^armth  for  ecclesiastical 
order.  But,  more  than  all  this,  have  ye  fed  the  hungry  ? 
have  ye  clothed  the  naked?  have  ye  given  water  to  the 
thirsty  soul  ?  sheltered  the  houseless  stranger  ?  soothed 
the  moaning  anguish  of  the  sick  ?  and  visited  the 
prisoner  in  his  dungeon  ?  " 

"  Abou  Ben  Adhem  (may  liis  tribe  increase  !) 
Awoke  one  nigbt  from  a  deep  dream  of  peace 
And  saw,  within  the  moonlight  in  his  room. 
Making  it  rich,  and  like  a  lily  in  bloom. 
An  angel  writing  in  a  book  of  gold  : — 
Exceeding  peace  had  made  Ben  Adhem  bold. 
And  to  the  angel  in  the  room  he  said, 
*  What  writest  thou  ? '     The  vision  raised  its  head, 
And  with  a  look  made  of  all  sweet  accord, 
Answer'd, '  The  names  of  those  who  love  the  Lord/ 
'  And  is  mine  one  ? '  asked  Abou,     '  Nay,  not  so,' 
Replied  the  angel.     Abou  spoke  more  low. 
But  cheerly  still ;  and  said, '  I  pray  thee,  then. 
Write  me  as  one  that  loves  his  fellow-men.' 
The  angel  ■«  rote,  and  vanish'd.     The  next  night 
It  came  again,  with  a  great  wakening  light, 


134  UNIYEESAL   BENEVOLENCE. 

And  sliow'd  the  names  wliom  love  of  God  had  bless'd. 
And  lo  !  Ben  Adhem's  name  led  all  the  rest," 

4.  Universal  benevolence  is  strongly  inculcated  from 
taking  into  consideration  the  identity  of  the  human 
race. 

"And  who  is  my  neighbor?"  Where  are  the  mem- 
bers of  my  fraternity  ?  Oh,  I  see  one,  shivering  amidst 
the  snows  of  Greenland;  another,  wrapt  in  furs  amidst 
the  smoke  of  his  Norwegian  cottage;  a  third,  wading 
with  the  weary  caravan  over  the  burning  sands  of 
Sahara's  desert.  I  recognize  my  brother  in  that  sable 
form,  musing  in  plaintive  mood,  amidst  the  gray  ruins 
of  Babel  or  of  Tadmor;  in  that  naked  savage,  chasing 
the  deer  wp  the  steeps  of  the  Eocky  Mountains,  far 
towards  the  setting  sun. 

Therefore  we  would  enforce  the  exhortation  of  the 
text:  "Let  us  do  good  unto  all  7nen"  from  the  fact  that 
all  men  are  brethren. 

"  Ne'er  withdraw  thy  pity  from  thy  brother  •. 

Whatsoe'er  his  garb 

Or  lineament  may  be ;  howe'er  the  sun 
Hath  burnt  dark  tints  upon  him,  or  the  yoke 
Of  vassalage  and  scorn  hath  bowed  him  low — 
Still  must  thy  spirit  at  thy  brother's  pain. 
Vibrate  as  the  sweet  lyre." 

5.  Universal  benevolence  is  most  solemnly  inculcated, 
by  considering  the  great  benefits  and  blessings  which 
would  flow  from  its  universal  prevalence. 

Is  it  not  enough  to  make  one  "blush  and  hang  his 
head  to  think  himself  a  man,"  when  he  reflects  upon 
the  mighty  talents,  the  transcendent  capabilities  with 
which  God  hath  endowed  the  race,  and  which,  instead 
of  being  made  to  subserve  the  cause  of  virtue,  have  been 
used  to  scathe  and  desolate  the  earth  ?  Oh,  to  what  a 
peerless  height  of  bliss  and  beauty  would  this  world 


UNIYERSAL  BENEVOLENCE.  135 

have  long  ago  aspired,  liad  all  our  great  men  been  good 
men;  had  men  of  might  been  men  of  God;  had  Alex- 
ander the  Great  been  a  missionary  of  mercy;  had  Julius 
Csesar  crossed  the  Rubicon  as  a  herald  of  salvation; 
had  Napoleon  Bonaparte  vowed  upon  his  bended  knees 
before  high  heaven,  that  he  would  rush  to  the  rescue 
of  his  suffering  fellow-men,  and  no  more  revisit  the 
blushing  vinehills  of  his  lovely  France  until  he  had 
penetrated  the  icy  regions  of  the  North,  crossed  the 
frozen  Alps,  doubled  the  stormy  Cape,  and  planted  the 
standard  of  light  and  love  amid  the  teeming  millions  of 
the  East. 

But  what  would  be  the  inevitable  results  flowing  from 
the  prevalence  of  universal  love?  Wars  would  cease. 
National  jealousies  would  expire.  Dueling  would  be 
known  merely  as  the  relic  of  a  dark  and  murderous  age. 
Tlie  dishonorable  and  cowardly  practice  of  carrying  con- 
cealed weapons  would  meet  with  one  loud,  long  hiss  of 
scorn.  Lawless  ambition,  political  oppression,  slander, 
disobedience  to  parents,  falsehood,  theft,  conjugal  infi- 
delity, sectarian  exclusiveness,  all  would  expire.  And 
from  earth's  regenerated  energies  would  spring  forth  a 
glorious  harvest  of  every  generous  and  noble  virtue. 
Then  every  hovel  of  distress  would  be  visited,  every 
afflicted  and  persecuted  soul  would  find  a  friend,  every 
debt  would  be  punctually  paid,  every  commodity  sold  at 
its  real  value,  every  article  of  merchandise  exhibited  in 
its  true  light,  every  promise  faithfully  kept,  every  dis- 
pute amicably  adjusted,  every  man's  character  held  in 
sacred  estimation.     Oh,  glorious  era ! 

"  Lord,  for  those  days  we  wait — those  days 
Are  in  thy  word  foretold  : — 
Fly  swifter,  sun  and  stars,  and  bring 
That  promised  age  of  gold." 


MORAL    IE"SAinTT. 

Preached  at  Vickeburg,  1841. 


"/  am  not  mad,  most  Nolle  Fesfus."— Acts  26  :  25. 
The  learned  Paul  was  esteemed  a  maniac.  And  in 
reference  to  one  greater  than  Paul,  it  was  said,  "  he  is 
beside  himself."  And  how  often  has  the  same  ckarge 
been  brought  against  ardent  Christians  in  our  own  day. 
— Glowing  zeal  for  the  truth,  devout  reverence  for  God, 
pungent  sorrow  for  sin,  occasional  rapture  of  devotion, 
or  uncommon  fervor  in  prosecuting  some  great  scheme 
of  benevolence,  have  often  been  viewed  as  evidences  of 
mental  derangement.  But  is  the  charge  just?  Let  us 
examine  and  see.  Mental  derangement  usually  exhibits 
itself  in  the  form  of  ^nonomania — i.  e.,  derangement 
upon  some  particular  topic,  while  on  all  other  themes 
the  mind  retains  its  equilibrium.  None  but  idiots 
manifest  entire  mental  fatuity.  It  is  only  when  unduly 
occupied  by  some  one  train  of  thought,  or  when  in- 
dulging in  some  darling  passion,  or  when  prosecuting 
with  intemperate  ardor  some  favorite  object  of  pursuit, 
that  the  intellect  becomes  unsettled.  Hence,  it  is  a 
most  rare  phenomenon,  to  meet  with  an  individual 
frenzied  or  insane,  whose  business  or  situation  in  life 
requires  him  frequently  to  change  his  trains  of  thought, 
or  to  pass,  in  pleasant  transition,  from  one  occupation 
to  another.  And  it  is  a  fact  of  frequent  occurrence, 
that  those  who  have  lost  their  intellectual  balance,  have 
found  immediate  relief  from  a  change  of  scenery  or  oc- 


MORAL  INSANITY.  137 

cupation — from  traveling,  music,  literary  pursuits,  or 
the  conversation  of  persons  of  sprightly  conversational 
powers. 

Now,  if  such  be  the  cause,  and  such  the  cure  of 
mental  alienation,  how  can  experimental  religion  ever 
make  a  man  a  maniac  ?  Experimental  piety,  wherever 
healthful  and  scriptural,  precludes  entire  and  undivided 
absorption  in  one  train  of  thought  or  one  species  of 
emotions,  to  the  exclusion  of  all  others.  It  calls  into 
exercise  a  great  variety  of  mental  powers,  and  gives 
indulgence  to  every  species  of  emotions  and  pursuits. 
Does  it  create  fears,  it  also  creates  hopes.  Hath  it  sor- 
rows, it  hath  also  joys.  Does  it  inculcate  gravity,  it 
likewise  enjoins  cheerfulness.  Does  it  demand  attention 
to  the  concerns  of  the  soul,  it  is  equally  explicit  in  en- 
forcing attention  to  the  claims  of  the  body.  Does  it 
call  for  the  exercise  of  love  to  God,  it  is  equally  pointed 
in  commanding  love  to  man.  Let  then  the  religion  of 
the  Gospel  exert  its  legitimate  power  upon  the  mind 
and  heart,  and  it  will  serve  as  a  complete  system  of 
chcclcs  and  halanceSy  precluding,  in  its  very  nature, 
everything  like  mental  insanity.  The  thoughts  it  be- 
gets, the  feelings  it  enkindles,  the  duties  and  pursuits 
it  inculcates,  are  too  diversified  to  lead  to  such  a  result. 

But  experimental  religion  is  not  only  not  the*  cause 
of  insanity,  it  is  often  its  cure,  or  its  prevoitive — 
"  ministering  to  a  mind  diseased,  and  plucking  from  the 
heart  a  rooted  sorrow."  Religion  forbids  violent  grief, 
and  violent  anger — excessive  mirth  or  excessive  melan- 
choly— fanatic  wailings  for  the  dead,  or  wild  bursts  of 
joy  at  the  sudden  attainment  of  wealth  or  honor.  It 
pacifies  a  guilty  conscience,  removes  the  pangs  of  re- 
morse, curbs  the  fiend-like  passion  of  revenge,  imparts 
contentment  to  the  lot  assigned  by  Providence,  and  re- 
moves  the  terrors  of  death.     Oh,  how  often  have  we 


138  MORAL  INSANITY. 

known  it  to  come  suddenly  to  the  rescue,  like  an  angel 
of  mercy,  seizing  the  stricken  spirit  from  the  grasp  of 
some  foul  fiend,  and  preventing  the  lunatic's  vacant  stare, 
the  maniac's  gloom,  or  the  madman's  frenzy.  There- 
fore, can  that  which  prevents  insanity,  ever  cause  it? 
Can  the  antidote  become  the  bane  ?  "  Can  the  same 
fountain  send  forth  saltwater  and  fresh." 

A  celebrated  medical  gentleman,  at  the  head  of  an 
English  lunatic  asylum,  has  informed  the  world,  that 
"  moral  impulses  very  rarely  produce  insanity."  And  he 
states  that  he  came  to  this  conclusion  from  the  sedulous 
treatment  of  nearly  700  cases  of  the  disease,  only  one 
individual  of  which  number  had  become  insane  from  a 
religious  cause.  He  had  frequently  been  informed  that 
some  particular  patient  had  become  religiously  insane. 
But  whenever  he  had  obtained  an  intelligent  history  of 
the  case,  he  uniformly  found  that  the  individual  had 
exhibited  symptoms  of  insanity,  before  he  became  a 
religious  devotee. 


LOYE     OF    MOITET 

Missionary  Address  in  New  Orleans,  1860. 


How  universal  and  idolatrons  is  the  estimate  which 
mankind  attach  to  money!  Although  there  is  no  pos- 
session more  uncertain,  none  more  destructive  of  peace 
of  mind,  none  more  productive  of  crime  and  prodigality 
among  children,  yet  there  is  nothing  after  which  the 
majority  of  men  grasp  more  eagerly,  and  for  which  they 
are  willing  to  make  greater  sacrifices,  than  for  this. 
The  Scriptures  declare  that  "  the  love  of  money  is  the 
root  of  all  evil,'*  i.  e.,  all  kinds  of  evil  have  had  their 
origin  in  the  love  of  money.  There  is  no  species  of 
evil,  whether  physical  or  mental,  which  has  not,  at  some 
time  or  other,  originated  here.  The  sin  of  covetousness 
is,  in  some  respects,  the  most  heinous  and  dangerous 
sin  of  which  man  is  liable. — It  is  so,  not  merely  on  ac- 
count of  its  direct  and  positive  effects,  but  also  because 
of  the  many  plausible  and  winning  aspects  which  it  is 
capable  of  assuming.  It  can  transform  itself  into  an 
angel  of  light.  Under  the  commendable  plea  of  taking 
care  of  the  family,  or  laying  up  in  store  for  old  age,  or 
providing  something  for  the  cause  of  charity,  it  can 
impose  upon  the  most  cautious,  until  it  finally  takes 
entire  possession  of  the  soul.  Covetousness  is  almost 
the  only  sin  which  is  tolerated  in  decent  society.  Pro- 
faneness,  drunkenness,  and  sensuality  must  often  hide 
their  heads;  while  covetousness,  because  of  its  genteel 
and   frugal    aspects,   rears  its    head    unrebuked    and 


14:0  LOYE   OF   MONEY. 

i 

unabashed.  Covetousness  is  the  only  sin  which  is  ! 
tolerated  in  the  Church.  A  professing  Christian  dare  1 
not  be  grossly  immoral,  but  he  dare  be  covetous.  As  1 
the  loss  of  one  of  the  five  senses  renders  the  others  more  ; 
acute,  so,  the  giving  up  of  the  common  and  grosser 
forms  of  vice,  by  some  persons,  when  they  become  mem-  i 
bers  of  the  Church,  imparts  to  this  darling  sin  a  ten-  i 
fold  power.  And  while  men  of  the  world  commit  all  i 
sins  without  restraint,  covetous  members  of  the  Church  j 
concentrate  their  corrupt  nature  upon  this  one.  Hence  \ 
it  becomes  intense,  absorbing.  The  moral  power  of  the  , 
Church  is  lowered,  her  energies  are  crippled,  and  mul-  | 
titudes  bow  down  before  the  shrine  of  Mammon. 
Banyan  tells  of  some  pilgrims,  who,  on  their  jour-  ] 
neying  to  the  Heavenly  City,  were inducedto  turn  aside  -  : 
from  their  road,  to  look  at  a  silver  mine,  recently  dis- 
covered in  a  little  hill  called  "Lucre."  *' Now,"  says  ■ 
the  great  dreamer,  "  whether  they  went  down  therein  to  ^ 
dig  or  were  choked  by  the  fumes  that  arose  from  the  i 
bottom,  I  know  not.  But  they  were  never  heard  of  | 
afterwards."  0  Christian,  beware  of  "covetousness,  j 
which  is  idolatry."  Let  the  case  of  the  rich  young  j 
man,  "Avho  went  away  sorrowful,  because  he  had  great  \ 
possession"— let  the  fate  of  Achan,  who  "perished  not  ! 
alone  in  his  iniquity" — of  Judas,  who  sold  his  Master 
"  for  thirty  pieces  of  silver  " — of  Ananias  and  Sapphira, 
who  '-'  kept  back  part  of  the  possession  "  and  "lied  unto  ! 
the  Holy  Ghost,"  serve  as  solemn  warnings  of  danger. 


I  IsT  F  L  U  E  ]Sr  O  E 


^^  For  none  of  us  livetk  to  himself. — Romans  14:7. 
Human  beings  are  linked  together  by  indissoluble  ties. 
They  are  virtuous  or  vicious  in  groups.  They  rise  and 
fall  in  masses.  Every  one  is  surrounded  by  a  species  of 
atmosphere.  This  atmosphere  others  breathe,  and  by  it 
others  are  affected.  Hence,  the  impulse  given  either  to 
truth  or  error,  by  a  single  individual,  may  be  felt 
throughout  a  whole  nation,  and  affect  unborn  genera- 
tions:  "For  none  of  us  livcth  to  himself,  and  no  man 
dieth  to  himself."  None  can  isolate  himself  from  his 
race  and  move  on  in  an  independent  sphere.  On  the 
contrary,  we  are  continually  radiating  images  of  our- 
selves, which  others  see  and  others  feel.  All  men  have 
an  influence.  The  good  and  the  bad  have  each  an  influ- 
ence.    How  do  bad  meiL  acquire  their  influence  ? 

1.  Precept  gives  them  influence.  They  lead  others  to 
do  wrong,  by  teaching  to  do  wrong.  This  is  done  much 
more  extensively  than  many  suppose.  Without  boldly 
advocating  palpable  errors  or  admitted  crimes,  at  which 
the  moral  sense  of  the  community  would  be  shocked, 
bad  men  often  gain  their  object  by  a  method  less  obvi- 
ous but  not  less  effectual.  They  inculcate  a  lax  but 
plausible  system  of  morality.  They  talk  lightly  of  the 
sanctions  of  the  Divine  law,  and  thus  weaken  its  hold 
on  the  hearts  of  the  young.  They  talk  disparagingly 
of  conscience,  and  represent  its  secret  admonitions  as 


142  INFLUENCE. 

the  effects  of  an  early  education  or  the  offspring  of  a 
morbid  sensibility.  And  thus  their  associates,  ere  they 
are  aware  of  it,  have  imbibed  a  poison  more  deadly  than 
the  viper's  tooth.  The  moral  sense  is  blunted.  The 
distinction  between  right  and  wrong  is  obliterated. 
Corrupt  principles  of  action  are  instilled,  and  vice  is 
soon  practiced  instead  of  virtue.  How  plausible  and 
liow  smooth-tongued  is  often  the  teacher  of  error!  He 
professes  a  profound  reverence  for  truth.  None  more 
rigid  in  contending  for  principles  than  he.  He  would 
sooner  cut  off  his  right  arm  than  teach  a  falsehood  or 
advocate  a  crime.  And  while  he  dare  not  openly  attack 
the  gates  of  the  citadel,  he,  in  his  way,  slyly  undermines 
the  foundations.  He  secures  the  outposts,  bribes  the 
sentinels,  and,  by  allaying  all  suspicion,  more  effectually 
gains  an  entrance.  Vice  is  always  more  dangerous  when 
clothed  in  the  garb  of  virtue,  and  the  errorist  when  ar- 
rayed in  the  panoply  of  truth.  The  most  successful 
knaves  come  thns  disguised,  as  smooth  as  razors  dipped 
in  oil,  but  as  sharp. 

2.  Example  gives  influence.  Wicked  men  usually 
accompany  their  sophistical  reasonings  by  a  corrupt 
practice.  This  gives  authority  to  their  precepts,  and 
renders  them  tenfold  more  dangerous.  They  who  are 
at  first  shocked  at  a  bad  man's  principles  may  insensibly 
fall  in  love  with  his  example;  and,  following  at  first  at 
a  respectful  distance,  may  gradually  approach  nearer, 
until  at  length  they  become  his  bosom  companions,  his 
obsequious  imitators.  For  it  is  not  the  example  of  the 
most  vicious  and  abandoned  which  is  the  most  corrupt- 
ing. The  drunkard  who  wallows  in  the  mire  may  be 
abhorred,  while  the  more  temperate  drinker  may  have  a 
host  of  imitators.  The  bold  blasphemer  may  be  viewed 
as  a  public  nuisance,  while  the  polite  skeptic,  the  gay 
sportsman,  the  accomplished  man  of  pleasure,  may  have 


INFLUENCE.  143 

troops  of  friends  and  give  tone  to  the  whole  community. 
Some  serpents  are  gifted  Avith  the  power  of  fascination. 
They  first  charm  their  victim  ere  they  strike  their  fang. 
And  so  it  is  with  some  men.  Their  example  is  a  gilded 
one.  They  attract  by  their  manners,  they  win  by  their 
eloquence,  they  overawe  the  censures  of  the  good  by 
their  popularity  and  wealth.  And  at  last,  when  they 
die,  a  vast  multitude  of  the  young,  the  amiable,  and  the 
inexperienced  will  rise  up  in  the  judgment  and  heap 
curses  on  their  heads  as  the  authors  of  their  ruin. 

3.  Age  g^vcs  influence.  The  precepts  and  example 
of  an  old  man,  whether  upon  the  side  of  vice  or  virtue, 
always  have  more  weight  than  those  of  a  younger  one. 
An  old  man  has  lived  longer.  He  has  had  more  experi- 
ence, and  is  better  acquainted  with  the  world.  His  gray 
hairs  are  reverenced.  He  has  more  authority.  He  has 
his  family  circle  and  connections  around  him.  While, 
then,  it  is  true  that  "one  sinner  destroyeth  much  good," 
this  is  peculiarly  true  of  an  old  sinner.  Here  you  be- 
hold the  case  of  one,  the  combined  influence  of  whose 
entire  life  has  been  polluting  a  whole  family  and  a  whole 
neighborhood.  The  companions  of  his  youth,  the  chil- 
dren and  associates  of  his  riper  years,  as  well  as  the 
familiar  companions  of  his  declining  days — a  large  mul- 
titude, have  all  been  breathing  his  corrupting  atmos- 
phere, have  been  inhaling  the  slow  poison  of  his  con- 
taminating influence. 

4.  Exalted  station  gives  influence.  When  the  fount- 
ains are  corrupt,  the  streams  are  always  impure.  Rulers 
have  an  influence  which  the  people  have  not.  Public 
men  frame  our  laws,  and  are  the  models  by  which  mul- 
titudes shape  their  opinions  and  their  conduct.  Wide 
and  fearful,  then*  is  the  prevalence  of  vice,  when  public 
men  are  corrupt.  They  send  forth  streams  of  impurity 
to  the  extremities  of  the  land,  corrupt  the  fountains  of 


144  INFLUENCE. 

justice,  and  bring  a  whole  nation  under  the  curse  of 
Heaven,  causing  thousands  to  perish  in  their  sins,  like 
the  vessel  freighted  with  a  precious  cargo  of  human  life, 
which  is  dashed  against  the  rocks  through  the  negli- 
gence of  a  drunken  pilot,  and  all  go  down  together. 

5.  The  domestic  relations  give  influence.  Yea,  this 
is  the  chief  source  of  influence.  It  is  here,  where  almost 
all  that  is  good  or  ill  in  human  life  has  its  origin.  It  is 
around  the  domestic  hearth  that  piety  and  every  noble 
virtue  begin  to  grow.  It  is  by  the  domestic  fireside  that 
youth  are  trained  up  to  be  their  country's  ornament  or 
their  country's  scourge.  It  is  from  the  family  that 
heaven  and  hell  are  peopled.  If  rulers  have  an  influ- 
ence over  the  people,  parents  exert  a  tenfold  greater 
influence  over  their  children,  husbands  over  wives,  and 
brothers  and  sisters  over  each  other.  As  is  the  parent, 
so  is  the  child.  As  are  the  associations  of  early  life,  so 
are  the  sentiments  of  riper  years.  If  parents  sow  the 
seeds  of  piety,  inculcate  principles  of  goodly  living, 
"allure  to  brighter  worlds  and  lead  the  way,"  children 
are  almost  sure  to  follow.  But  if  parents  inculcate  no 
good  sentiments,  crush  no  vicious  propensities,  set  no 
godly  example,  use  no  eff'orts  to  ward  ofi"  those  countless 
unhallowed  influences  which  prowl  around  the  domestic 
enclosure,  how,  under  such  circumstances,  can  piety 
obtain  a  lodgment  in  the  youthful  bosom  ?  You  might 
as  well  expect  roses  to  bloom  upon  a  mountain  of  snow. 
Such  are  some  of  the  causes  of  that  mysterious  power 
which  every  human  being,  even  the  humblest,  is  con- 
tinually exerting  over  the  circle  in  which  he  moves. 
Every  utterance  of  the  lips,  every  action  of  the  life,  the 
whole  force  of  example,  the  station  occupied,  the  relation 
sustained,  whether  of  ruler,  friend,  teacher,  parent,  hus- 
band, wife,  or  child,  is  casting  an  image  upon  some  fel- 
low mortal,  and  is  influencing  him  for  good  or  evil.     It 


INFLUENCE.  145 

is  evident,  then,  that  no  one  is  sufficiently  fiware  of  his 
influence.  An  indiscreet  remark,  made  in  thoughtless- 
ness or  excitement,  may  have  formed  the  germ  of  vice 
in  some  youthful  bosom,  and  may  bring  forth  fruit  unto 
death,  long  after  he  who  uttered  it  has  passed  away  from 
earth.  Eeader,  what  is  your  influence  ?  Is  it  salutary  ? 
Your  exami)le,  is  it  safe  ?  Your  vowed  principles,  are 
they  sound?  Remember,  you  are  in  a  certain  sense 
your  brother's  keeper.  You  cannot  prevent  your  influ- 
ence.   It  IV  ill  he  felt. 


SEMI-CENTENNIAL 

OF 

PRESBYTERIANISM  IN  NEW  ORLEANS. 


In  accordance  with  prerious  notice,  the  Presbyte- 
rian congregations  assembled  in  the  First  Presbyterian 
Church,  on  Lafayette  square,  on  last  Sabbath  evening, 
to  celebrate,  with  appropriate  services,  the  organization 
of  the  first  Presbyterian  church  in  this  city,  on  the 
twenty-third  of  November,  fifty  years  ago. 

The  pulpit  and  its  surroundings  were  tastefully  dec- 
orated with  floral  wreaths  and  emblems,  suited  to  the 
occasion.  To  the  right  of  the  pulpit  was  the  single 
name — "  Lamed" — and  to  the  left — "  Palmer" — in  ever- 
green letters ;  with  a  wreath  (also  of  evergreen)  under- 
neath each.  On  a  line  with,  and  between  the  two,  were 
the  figures  1823  and  1873,  with  a  hyphen  between  the 
dates;  thus  joining  together  as  one,  the  names  and 
years  which  this  memorial  day  celebrated.  The  letters 
were  about  twelve  inches  in  length,  and  the  figures 
eighteen.  The  latter  were  made  of  pure  chrysanthe- 
mums, and  looked  charming  in  their  rich  whiteness. 

Upon  the  communion  table,  in  front  of  the  pulpit, 
was  a  mound  of  flowers,  three  feet  high  by  three  wide, 
surrounded  by  evergreens;  typical  of  the  names  and 
dates,  the  i^ast  and  the  present,  the  living  and  the  dead 
— erected  out  of  respect  to  the  memory  of  the  founder 
of  the  church,  and  also  in  honor  of  the  present,  living 


rRESBYTERIANISM   IN  NEW  ORLEANS.  147 

occupant,  erected  no  less  to  commemorate  the  lapse  of 
half  a  century  of  time  between  the  two. 

The  cliancel  rails,  i)illars  of  the  candelabras,  and  front 
of  the  pulpit  platform  were  festooned  with  wreaths  of 
evergreens,  intermingled  with  flowers,  while  cedars  and 
exotic  plants  were  interspersed  within  and  around  the 
altar — altogether  creating  a  beautiful  though  chaste 
and  solemn  effect. 

THE   SERVICES. 

The  services  were  opened  precisely  at  seven  o'clock 
with  a  beautiful  voluntary  from  the  choir. 

Rev.  B.  Wayne,  then  read  the  48th  Psalm. 

A  fervent  and  impressive  prayer  was  offered  by  Rev. 
James  Beattie. 

Dr.  Palmer  then  read  the  following  narrative : 

AN"  HISTORICAL  PAPER  ON  THE  ORIGIN  AND  GROWTH  OF 
PRESBYTERIANISM  IN  THE  CITY  OF  NEW  ORLEANS. 

It  is  a  little  remarkable  that  the  first  successful  effort 
to  plant  Presbyterianism  in  the  city  of  New  Orleans 
should  have  originated  with  the  Congregationalists  of 
New  Eugliind.  Near  the  beginning  of  the  year  1817, 
the  Rev.  Elias  Cornelius  was  appointed  by  the  Connec- 
ticut Missionary  Society,  to  engage  in  a  missionary  tour 
through  the  southwestern  States,  more  especially  to  visit 
New  Orleans,  then  containing  a  population  of  thirty  to 
thirty-four  thousand,  and  with  but  one  Protestant  min- 
ister, the  Rev.  Dr.  Hull ;  to  examine  its  moral  condi- 
tion, and,  while  preaching  the  Gospel  to  many  who 
seldom  heard  it,  to  invite  the  friends  of  the  Congrega- 
tional or  Presbyterian  Communion  to  establish  a  church, 
and  secure  an  able  and  faithful  pastor.  In  this  tour, 
Dr.  Cornelius  acted  also  as  agent  for  the  A.  B.  C.  F.  M., 
to  solicit  funds  for  the  evangelization  of  the  Indian 


148  SEMI-CENTENNIAL  OF 

tribes.  In  this  Avork  he  was  eminently  successful — 
devoting  an  entire  year  to  a  lengthened  tour  from  Mas- 
sachusetts to  Louisiana — collecting  large  sums  for  the 
American  Board,  and  arrived  in  Xew  Orleans  on  De- 
cember 30,  1817. 

The  most  important  service  rendered  by  Dr.  Corne- 
lius, however,  was  that  of  introducing  the  Eev.  Sylvester 
Larned  to  this  field  of  labor.  In  passing  through  New 
Jersey,  on  his  journey  southward.  Dr.  Cornelius  formed 
the  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Larned,  then  finishing  his  di- 
vinity course  at  Princeton,  and  giving,  in  the  reputation 
acquired  as  a  student,  brilliant  promise  of  a  successful 
career  as  a  preacher.  The  arrangement  was  there  formed 
between  the  two,  that  Mr.  Larned  should  follow  Dr. 
Cornelius  to  New  Orleans  after  he  should  have  passed 
his  trials,  and  should  have  been  admitted  to  the  min- 
istry. 

On  July  15,  1817,  Mr.  Larned  was  licensed  and  or- 
dained by  the  Presbytery  of  New  York.  This  ordina- 
tion was  clearly  to  the  office  of  Evangelist,  which  he 
was  in  the  fullest  sense  of  the  word.  It  appears,  too, 
that  the  General  Assembly  of  the  Presbyterian  Church 
was  brought  into  co-operation  with  this  scheme ;  from 
the  fact  that  Drs.  Nott  and  Eomeyn  were  appointed  by 
that  body  to  accompany  Mr.  Larned  to  the  southwest. 
This  appointment  was  not,  however,  fulfilled,  and  we 
find  the  young  evangelist,  after  a  brief  visit  to  his  native 
home,  leaving  on  September  26,  and  journeying  alone 
to  the  field  where  he  was  to  gather  the  laurels  of  an  un- 
fading reputation,  and  then  to  sanctify  it  by  an  early 
death.  He  reached  his  destination  after  innumerable 
delays,  January  22,  1818. 

Through  the  antecedent  preparation  of  his  friend,  Dr. 
Cornelius,  who  had  preceded  him  exactly  three  weeks — 
and  still  more  by  his  own  splendid  attractions — over- 


PEESBYTERIANISM  IN  NEW  ORLKiNS.  149 

turcs  were  soon  made  to  liim  for  a  permanent  settle- 
ment. Subscriptions  were  circulated  for  the  building 
of  a  church  edifice,  whicli,  by  April  5,  amounted  to 
$1G,000.  It  was  proposed,  as  soon  as  the  subscriptions 
were  completed,  to  negotiate  a  loan  of  $40,000,  the  esti- 
mated cost  of  a  building  sixty  feet  by  ninety,  with  about 
two  thousand  sittings.  Considering  the  infancy  of  the 
enterprise,  the  largeness  of  these  plans  betokens  great 
vigor  of  effort,  and  the  confidence  felt  of  final  success  in 
collecting  and  maintaining  a  flourishing  church.  In 
this  costly  undertakiiig,  generous  assistance  was  received 
from  the  City  Council,  in  the  grant  of  two  lots  of  ground 
valued  at  $G,000,  and  in  a  subsequent  loan  of  $10,000. 
In  the  erection  of  the  building,  Mr.  Larned's  spiritual 
labors  were  interrupted  during  the  summer  of  1818  by 
a  visit  north,  for  the  purpose  of  soliciting  money,  and 
also  of  purchasing  materials  for  building. 

On  January  8,  1819,  the  corner-stone  of  the  new  edi- 
fice was  laid  with  imposing  ceremonies  (and  in  the  pres- 
ence of  an  immense  throng),  on  the  selected  site  on  St. 
Charles  street,  between  Gravier  and  Union,  and  on  July 
4,  following,  was  solemnly  dedicated  to  the  worship  of 
Almighty  God — with  a  discourse  from  Psalms  48  :  9 : 
"We  have  thought  of  thy  loving  kindness,  0  God,  in 
the  midst  of  thy  temple,"  which  will  be  found  the  fourth 
in  the  series  of  sermons  published  in  connection  with 
Mr.  Larned's  Memoirs. 

There  are  no  records  from  which  to  learn  the  spiritual 
growth  of  the  church  during  this  early  period,  except 
that  in  one  of  his  letters,  Mr.  Larned  speaks  of  a  com- 
munion season  about  the  middle  of  July,  1820,  in  which 
there  were  forty-two  at  the  table  of  the  Lord,  part  of 
whom  were,  however,  Methodists.  Mr.  Larned's  labors 
were  those  exclusively  of  an  evangelist;  and  his  brief 
life  was  spent  in  gathering  a  congregation  and  building 


150  SEMI-CENTENMAL  OF 

a  house  of  worship.  There  is  no  record  of  his  hav- 
ing organized  a  church  according  to  our  ecclesiastical 
canons,  by  the  election  and  ordination  of  ruling  elders ; 
and  he  himself  was  never  installed  into  the  pastoral  re- 
lation by  ecclesiastical  authority.  It  pleased  the  Great 
Head  of  the  Church  to  arrest  his  labors  before  they 
reached  this  point  of  consummation.  During  the 
month  of  August,  1820,  the  scourge  which  has  so  often 
desolated  our  city,  made  its  appearance.  On  Sabbath, 
August  27,  he  preached  from  Phil.  1 :  21,  "  For  me  to 
live  is  Christ,  and  to  die  is  gain ; "  w^ords  alas !  prophetic 
of  his  speedy  call  to  those  mansions  where  all  is  "gain" 
forever  to  the  believer.  On  the  following  Thursday, 
August  21,  the  very  day  on  which  he  completed  the 
twenty-fourth  year  of  his  age,  he  fell  asleep  in  Jesus — 
or  rather  awoke  to  the  glory  and  joy  of  his  Lord.  His 
remains  were  consigned  to  the  tomb  in  Girod  Cemetery, 
with  the  Episcopal  service  for  the  dead  rendered  by  the 
Kev.  Dr.  Hull. 

Mr.  Larned's  successor,  after  an  interval  of  eighteen 
months,  was  the  Eev.  Theodore  Clapp,  a  native  of  Mas- 
sachusetts, and  a  graduate  of  Yale  College,  and  of  the 
Theological  Seminary  at  Andover.  He  was  licensed  by 
a  Congregational  Association,  October,  1817;  and  was 
led  providentially  to  Kentucky,  by  an  engagement  as 
private  tutor  in  a  family  residing  near  Lexington,  iu 
that  State.  During  the  summer  of  1821,  he  spent  a  few 
weeks  at  a  watering  place  in  Kentucky,  and  on  the  Sab- 
bath preached  in  one  of  the  public  rooms  of  the  hotel  to 
the  assembled  guests.  This  apparently  casual  circum- 
stance led  to  his  settlement  in  New  Orleans.  Amongst 
his  hearers  on  that  occasion,  were  two  gentlemen  from 
our  city,  trustees  of  Mr.  Larned's  church ;  who,  upon 
their  return  home,  caused  a  letter  to  be  written,  inviting 
him  to  New  Orleans.     This  invitation,  at  first  declined. 


PKESBYTERIANISM  EN  NEW  ORLEANS.  15l 

led  to  ix  visit  to  this  city  near  iiie  close  of  Febriuiry, 
1822. 

On  the  third  Siibbath  after  his  arrival,  he  was  unani- 
mously chosen  to  fill  the  vacant  pulpit.  Finding  tlie 
church  embarrassed  by  a  debt  of  $45,000,  he  naturally 
hesitated,  and  finally  made  its  lif[uidation  the  condition 
of  his  acceptance  of  the  call.  Tlie  method  adopted  for 
this  purpose,  though  deemed  proper  at  the  time,  would 
now  be  disallowed  by  the  better  educated  conscience  of 
the  Church.  The  trustees  made  application  to  the  Leg- 
islature of  Louisiana,  then  in  session,  for  a  lottery  ; 
which  being  sold  to  Yates  &  Mclntyre  of  New  York,  for 
$25,000,  relieved  the  pressure  of  debt  to  that  amount. 
For  the  remaining  $20,000  the  building  was  sold  to 
Judah  Touro,  Esq.,  a  merchant  of  wealth,  whose  mag- 
nificent charities  have  left  his  name  in  grateful  remem- 
brance to  the  people  of  New  Orleans.  It  may  be  well  to 
state  here,  though  a  little  in  advance  of  dates,  that  Mr. 
Touro  held  the  building  to  the  time  of  its  destruction 
by  fire;  allowing  the  income  from  pew-rents  to  the  use 
of  the  minister,  and  incurring  the  expense  of  keeping  it 
in  repair.  He  was  Mr.  Clapp's  personal  friend  and 
benefactor  throughout  life ;  and  when  the  original  build- 
ing was  burnt,  and  long  after  it  had  been  carried  away 
from  Presbyterians  by  Mr.  Clapp's  secession,  Mr.  Touro, 
•we  believe,  built  a  small  chapel  for  the  Unitarian  con- 
gregation, until  a  larger  edifice  could  be  erected  for 
their  accommodation.  Such  instances  of  princely 
munificence  deserve  to  be  engraved  upon  tablets  of 
marble.     But  this  is  to  anticipate. 

The  first  notice  of  the  organization  of  this  church,  as 
a  spiritual  body,  is  in  the  record  of  a  meeting  held  for 
this  purpose  on  November  23,  1823.  Prior  to  this, 
the  labors  of  Mr.  Larned,  extending  over  a  period  of 
two  years  and  seven  months,  from  January  22,  1818, 


152  SEMI-CENTENNIAL   OF 

to  August  31,  1820 ;  and  those  of  Mr.  Clapp  over  a 
period  of  one  year  and  nine  months,  from  March,  1822, 
to  November,  1823,  were  sim2:)ly  evangelistic.  A  con- 
gregation liad  been  gathered,  a  house  of  worship  built, 
the  word  and  sacrament  administered,  and  the  materials 
collected  for  the  S23iritual  Church  in  the  admission  of 
persons  to  sealing  ordinances;  all  in  the  exercise  of 
that  power  which  the  Scriptures  and  our  Presbyterian 
standards  assign  to  the  evangelist.  The  time  had  now 
arrived  for  the  gathering  up  the  results  of  these  labors 
in  a  permanent  and  organized  form. 

On  the  evening  of  November  23,  1823,  just  fifty 
years  ago,  at  a  meeting  moderated  by  Rev.  Mr.  Clapp, 
nine  males  and  fifteen  females  presented  credentials  of 
having  been  admitted  to  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's 
supper,  by  Mr.  Larned,  as  follows : 

Males: — Alfred  Hennen,  James  Eobinson,  William 
Eoss,  Robert  H.  McNair,  Moses  Cox,  Hugli  Farrie, 
Richard  Pearse,  John  Spittal,  John  Rollins.  Females: 
— Phebe  Farrie,  Catherine  Hearsey,  Celeste  Hearsey, 
Doza  A.  Hearse}^,  Margaret  Agur,  Ann  Ross,  Eliza  Hill, 
Margaret  McNair,  Sarah  Ann  Harper,  Ann  Davison, 
Stella  Mercer,  Jane  Robinson,  Eliza  Baldwin,  Mary 
Porter,  Eliza  Davidson. 

These  persons,  twenty-four  in  all,  were  formed  into  a 
church  by  the  adoption  of  the  Presbyterian  standards 
in  doctrine,  government,  discipline,  and  worship ;  and 
by  a  petition  to  the  Presbytery  of  Mississippi  to  be  en- 
rolled among  the  churches  under  its  care,  with  the  style 
and  title  of  ^*  The  First  Presbyterian  Church  in  the  city 
and  parish  of  New  Orleans."  The  organization  was 
completed  by  the  election  on  the  same  evening  of  four 
persons  to  be  ruling  elders,  viz. :  William  Ross,  Moses 
Cox,  James  Robinson,  and  Robert  H.  McNair,  who  were 
accordingly  ordained  and  installed  on  the  following 
Sabbath,  November  30,  1823. 


TRESBYTEEIANISM  IN  NEW   ORLEANS.  153 

Mr.  Chipp's  ministry  was  a  troubled  one,  from  sus- 
picions entertained  of  liis  doctrinal  soundness.  From 
his  own  statements,  as  early  as  1824,  his  faith  was 
shaken  as  to  tlie  doctrine  of  the  eternity  of  future  pun- 
ishment. He  pushed  his  investigations,  doubts  darken- 
ing upon  him,  through  years,  until  at  length  he  was 
forced  to  phmt  liimself  in  open  hostility  to  the  whole 
Calvinistic  Theology.  It  is  not  strange  that  inconsis- 
tent and  wavering  statements  of  truth  should  find  their 
way  into  the  ministrations  of  the  pulpit,  at  the  very 
time  his  faitli  was  shaken  in  the  tenets  which  he  had 
subscribed,  and  when  his  own  mind  was  working  to  an 
entire  renunciation  of  them.  A  single  crack  in  a  bell  is 
sufficient  to  destroy  its  tone ;  and  it  is  not  surprising  that 
some  of  his  parishioners  should  miss  tliat  clear  ring  which 
the  pulpit  is  expected  to  give  forth.  Certain  it  is,  that 
the  repose  of  the  church  was  seriously  disturbed  for 
years  by  two  parallel  prosecutions  before  the  Session 
against  two  prominent  members  of  the  church,  one  of 
them  a  ruling  elder,  grounded  upon  their  undisguised 
dissatisfaction  with  the  minister.  In  the  course  of  these 
complicated  proceedings,  the  Session,  by  death  and  dep- 
osition from  offices,  became  reduced  below  a  constitu- 
tional quorum ;  which  led,  in  March,  1828,  to  the  elec- 
tion and  ordination  of  five  new  elders,  Alfred  Hennen, 
Joseph  A.  Maybin,  William  W.  Caldwell,  Josiah 
Crocker,  and  Fabric! us  Reynolds. 

On  March  5,  1830,  Mr.  Clapp  addressed  a  letter 
to  the  Presbytery  of  Mississippi,  in  which  he  says,  "  I 
have  not  found,  and  I  at  present  despair  of  finding  auy 
text  of  Holy  Writ  to  prove  unanswerably  the  distin- 
guishing tenets  of  Calvinism."  He,  therefore,  solicited 
a  dismission  from  the  Presbytery  to  the  Hampshire 
County  Association  of  Congregational  ministers  in  the 
State  of  Massachusetts.    This  dismission  was  refused  by 


154  SEMI-CENTENNIAL  OF 

the  Presbytery,  on  the  ground  that  it  was  inconsistent 
to  dismiss,  in  good  standing,  to  another  body  one  whom 
they  could  no  longer  recognize  in  their  own  ;  and  they 
proceeded  to  declare  Mr.  Clapp  no  longer  a  member  of 
their  body,  or  a  minister  in  the  Presbyterian  Church. 
A  letter  was  also  addressed  to  the  church  advising  them 
of  this  action,  and  declaring  the  pulpit  yacant.  Xo 
definite  action  was  taken  upon  this  communication  of 
the  Presbytery  until  January,  1831,  when  the  Session 
proposed  to  take  the  mind  of  the  church,  whether  to 
retain  Mr.  Clapp  as  their  pastor,  or  to  abide  by  the  de- 
cision of  the  Presbytery  and  to  sever  that  connection. 
This  sifting  process  was,  however,  arrested  by  an  excep- 
tion taken  against  this  action  and  against  the  Presbyte- 
rial  decree  upon  which  it  was  based.  By  common 
consent,  the  case  was  carried  over  the  intermediate 
court  immediately  to  the  General  Assembly,  which  body 
sustained  the  exception,  declaring  '-  that,  as  Mr.  Clapp 
had  neither  been  dismissed  nor  suspended  by  the  Pres- 
bytery, he  ought  to  be  regarded  as  a  member  of  that 
body,  and  that  in  the  opinion  of  the  xVssembly,  they 
have  sufficient  reasons  for  proceeding  to  try  him  upon 
the  charge  of  error  in  doctrine." 

The  case  being  thus  remanded  to  the  Presbytery,  had 
to  be  taken  up  anew.  Meanwhile  the  agitation  in  the 
bosom  of  the  church  could  not  be  allayed.  On  January 
13,  1832,  fifteen  members,  including  elders  McISTair 
and  Caldwell,  were  dismissed  at  their  request,  for  the 
purpose  of  forming  another  church  upon  the  principles 
of  the  doctrine  and  discipline  of  the  Presbyterian 
Church.  This  seceding  body  worshiped  in  a  warehouse 
of  Mr.  Cornelius  Paulding,  opposite  Lafayette  square, 
on  the  site  covered  by  the  building  in  which  we  are  now 
assembled.  It  enjoyed  the  services  of  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Harris ;  but  the  references  to  it  are  scant,  and  after  a 


PKESBYTERIANISM   IN  NEW  ORLExVNS.  155 

brief  and  flickering  existence,  its  elements  were  reab- 
sorbed into  the  First  Chnrch.  Meanwhile  the  Presby- 
tery concluded  its  proceedings  in  tlie  trial  of  Mr.  Chipp, 
on  January  10,  1833 ;  when  lie  was  deposed  from  the 
office  of  the  ministry,  and  his  relations  to  tlie  cliurch, 
which  had  only  heen  those  of  a  stated  supply  and  not 
of  an  installed  pastor,  were  finally  canceled.  The  roll 
of  communicants,  just  before  the  secession  in  1832, 
numbered  eighty-nine. 

Presbyterianism  had  now  to  start  aneAV,  from  a  begin- 
ning quite  as  small  as  at  first.  The  social  and  amiable 
qualities  of  Mr.  Clapp  endeared  him  greatly  as  a  man ; 
the  large  majority  of  his  hearers  could  not  appreciate 
this  clamor  about  doctrine ;  and  many  of  the  truly  pious 
Avere  slow  to  credit  the  extent  of  his  departure  from  the 
faith,  and  were  disposed  to  sympathize  with  him  as  one 
unkindly  persecuted.  The  few,  therefore,  who  came 
forth,  exactly  nine,  with  the  two  elders,  Hennen  and 
Maybin,  found  themselves  in  the  condition  of  seceders 
who  were  houseless  in  the  streets.  Fortunately  a  spirit- 
ual guide  was  immediately  provided.  The  Kev.  Joel 
Parker,  in  the  service  of  the  American  Home  Mission 
Society,  being  in  the  city,  was  at  once  solicited  to  be- 
come their  stated  supjoly.  His  connection  began  Jan- 
nary  12,  1833,  and  the  little  band  worshiped  alter- 
nately with  the  organization  formed  a  year  before  under 
Mr.  Harris,  in  the  wareroom  on  Lafayette  square. 
These  two  wings  finally  coalesced  in  1835.  In  March, 
1834,  Dr.  Parker  was  unanimously  chosen  pastor,  and 
on  April  27th,  was  duly  installed  by  the  Presbytery  of 
Mississippi.  During  this  summer  he  was  absent  at  the 
North,  collecting  funds  for  building  a  new  house  of 
worship.  Some  statements  made  by  him  to  Northern 
audiences  respecting  the  religious  condition  and  neces- 
sities of  New  Orleans  were  grossly  misrepresented  in 


156  SEMI-CENTENNIAL  OF 

the  public  prints.  A  violent  excitement  was  created 
against  liim  in  the  city,  indignation  meetings  were  held, 
and  he  was  once  or  twice  burnt  in  effigy  by  the  popula- 
tion. The  storm  was  met  with  great  firmness  and  dignity 
by  the  church,  which  rallied  around  its  pastor,  produced 
written  evidence  that  Dr.  Parker  had  been  entirely  mis- 
represented, and  contended  earnestly  for  the  exercise  of 
their  own  religious  rights.  In  a  short  time,  the  fierce 
opposition  was  quelled,  and  was  eventually  lived  down. 

Upon  the  pastor's  return. in  the  autumn,  worship  was 
resumed  in  a  room  on  Julia  street  until  March  15, 
1835,  when  the  basement  of  the  new  building  on  La- 
fayette square  was  first  occupied.  This  edifice,  so  well 
remembered  by  many  present,  was  erected  at  an  original 
cost,  including  the  site,  of  $57,616.  Subsequent  im- 
provements and  enlargements,  in  1844,  with  an  addi- 
tional purchase  of  ground,  amounted  to  over  $17,000 
more  ;  making  the  whole  cost  of  the  church,  which  was 
destroyed  by  fire  in  1854,  $75,000. 

Dr.  Parker's  connection  with  the  church  extended 
over  a  period  of  five  years  and  six  months,  from  January 
12,  1833,  to  June  14,  1838,  at  which  date  he  left, 
never  to  return.  The  pastoral  relation  was  not,  how- 
ever, dissolved  till  the  spring  of  1839.  During  his  pas- 
torship, the  church  was  greatly  prospered,,  having  se- 
cured a  commodious  sanctuary,  and  showing,  as  early 
as  1836,  a  church-roll  numbering  one  hundred  and 
forty-two  communicants.  There  were  two  elections  of 
elders ;  in  1834,  Dr.  John  E.  Moore,  Frederic  R.  Soutli- 
mayd,  and  Truman  Parmele  being  chosen  to  that  office ; 
and  in  1838,  Stephen  Franklin,  John  S.  Walton,  and 
James  Be  at  tie. 

The  next  incumbent  of  the  pulpit  was  the  Rev.  Dr. 
John  Breckinridge,  with  whom  the  church  opened  ne- 
gotiations in  February,  1839.     This  gentleman  was  at 


PRESBYTERIANISM   IN   NEW   ORLEiVNS.  157 

the  time  tlie  ISccretary  of  the  Assembly's  Board  of 
Foreign  Missions.  In  his  letter  to  the  church,  dated 
May,  1839,  he  consents  to  serve  it  in  conjunction  Avitli 
his  secretaryship,  from  -which  his  brethren  were  unwil- 
ling to  release  him,  the  Board  giving  him  a  dispensa- 
tion for  six  or  seven  months  for  this  purpose.  These 
conditions  being  accepted.  Dr.  Breckinridge  spent  the 
winter  of  1839  in  New  Orleans;  and  still  again  the 
winter  of  1840,  till  April  of  1841.  He  was  called  to  the 
eternal  rest  in  August,  1841,  retaining  in  his  hand  the 
call  of  this  church,  as  pastor  elect.  His  labors  were 
fragmentary,  but  efficient ;  and  the  church  was  left  to 
mourn  over  hopes  disappointed  in  his  death. 

The  attention  of  the  church  was  soon  turned  to  the 
Kev.  Dr.  W.  A.  Scott,  of  Tuscaloosa,  Alabama,  who  was 
installed  as  pastor  on  March  19,  1843,  and  whose 
pastoral  relation  was  formally  dissolved  in  September, 
1855.  His  active  connection  with  the  church,  however, 
began  and  closed  earlier  than  these  dates.  His  term  of 
service,  as  pastor  elect,  began  in  the  fall  of  1842,  and  his 
active  labors  ceased  in  November,  1854,  covering  a 
period  of  tAvelve  years.  Dr.  Scott's  ministry  was  ex- 
ceedingly productive,  during  which  vigorous  and  con- 
stant eiforts  were  made  to  build  up  the  interests  of  Pres- 
byterianism  in  the  city.  These  will  be  briefly  sketched 
in  the  notices  soon  to  be  given  of  the  other  church  organ- 
izations. The  roll  of  communicants  swelled,  in  1844, 
to  four  hundred  and  thirty-nine,  and  before  the  close 
of  his  ministry  to  over  six  hundred. 

On  July  20,  1845,  Dr.  J.  M.  AY.  Picton,  and  Charles 
Gardiner  were  ordained  to  the  office  of  ruling  elder ; 
and  Thomas  Bowman  and  William  P.  Campbell,  to  that 
of  deacon.  On  December  23,  1849,  K.  B.  Shepherd,  W. 
P.  Campbell,  and  W.  A.  Bartlett  w^re  ordained  to  the 
eldership ;   and  W.  H.  Reese,  L.  L.  Brown,  and  James 


158  SEMI-CENTENNIAL  OF 

Kainey,  to  the  diaconate;  and  on  November  28,1852, 
the  bench  of  deacons  was  increased  by  the  installation 
of  W.  0.  Black,  Eobert  A.  Grinnan,  and  Simon  De- 
visser,  and  of  J.  Gr.  Dnnlap,  on  January  23,  1853. 

The  chnrch  edifice  was  burnt  on  October  29,  1854; 
and  it  is  to  the  last  degree  creditable  to  the  congrega- 
tion that  amidst  all  the  discouragements  of  a  vacant 
bishopric  and  a  congregation  scattered,  it  should  have 
proceeded  at  once  to  build  another  of  larger  proportions 
and  more  finished  in  style.  In  1857,  the  house  in  which 
we  are  now  assembled  was  finished  and  dedicated  to  the 
worship  of  God.  Its  cost,  with  all  its  appointments, 
was  about  $87,000. 

On  September  21,  1854,  a  call  was  made  out  to  the 
Rev.  B.  M.  Palmer,  of  South  Carolina,  which,  upon  being 
presented  before  his  Presbytery  and  Synod,  was  defeated 
by  the  refusal  of  those  bodies  to  place  it  in  his  hands. 
The  call  was  renewed  on  March  16, 1856,  and  prevailed. 
His  labors  began  early  in  December  of  that  year,  and  on 
the  28th  of  the  same  month  he  was  installed  by  the 
Presbytery  of  New  Orleans.  After  the  lapse  of  seven- 
teen years,  he  is  present  to-night  to  read  this  record  of 
God's  exceeding  faithfulness  and  mercy  to  His  redeemed 
people.  It  is  only  proper  to  add,  that  the  membership 
of  this  church,  which,  after  Dr.  Scott's  withdrawal,  was 
thrown  down  to  three  hundred  and  fifty,  was  carried  up 
in  1861,  just  before  the  war,  to  five  hundred  and  thirty- 
one.  By  the  war,  in  1866,  it  was  again  reduced  to  four 
hundred  and  thirty-six,  and  now  reaches  to  six  hundred 
and  forty-eight. 

Three  successful  Mission  schools  are  sustained  and 
two  buildings  erected  for  their  accommodation,  one  of 
these  large  and  comfortable,  at  a  cost  of  some  $10,000. 
It  is  now  sustaining  a  city  missionary,  which  it  has 
often  done  in  the  past,  and  always  with  marked  results 


rRESBYTERLVNISM  IN  NEW   ORLEANS.  159 

in  the  extension  of  the  cause  so  dear  to  all  our 
hearts. 

We  have  preferred  to  give  the  history  of  this  particular 
church  without  breaking  its  continuity.  It  is  time, 
however,  that  we  turn  to  tlie  efforts  of  church  extension, 
which  will  bring  into  view  the  other  Presbyterian 
organizations  in  the  city. 

The  first  effort  in  this  direction  was  the  employment, 
on  January  30, 1840,  by  the  Session  of  the  First  Church, 
of  Eev.  Jerome  Twichell,  as  a  city  missionary,  Avith  four 
points  of  labor,  viz. :  in  the  lecture-room,  to  the  colored 
people ;  at  Orleans  Cotton  Press  to  the  seamen  ;  at  the 
city  prison,  and  in  the  District  of  Lafayette.  Mr. 
Twichell  began  his  work  at  once,  opening  a  service  in 
the  house  of  Mrs.  Dick,  on  February  4 — thirty  per- 
sons being  present.  This  was  the  germ  of  the  Lafa- 
yette Presbyterian  Church,  now  under  the  pastoral  care 
of  Rev.  Dr.  Markham.  On  March  1,  divine  service 
was  transferred  to  the  Lafayette  Court-room.  On  March 
19,  a  meeting  was  held  of  the  citizens  of  the  district, 
to  consider  the  erection  of  a  church-edifice,  which  was 
prosecuted  with  such  vigor,  that  in  January,  1842,  a 
house  of  worship  was  finished,  at  a  cost  of  some  $5,000, 
and  dedicated,  on  Fulton  street,  between  Josephine  and 
St.  Andrew. 

The  Lafayette  Church  was  not,  however,  organized 
till  September  21,  1843,  when  twenty  members  of  the 
First  Church  were  set  off  as  a  colony  for  this  purpose. 
Dr.  John  Rollins,  Richard  Leech,  and  John  Hume  being 
the  first  elders. 

Rev.  Jerome  Twichell  was  elected  pastor  and  installed, 
the  first  Sabbath  in  January,  1844,  and  continued  in 
this  relation  till  December  4,  1853 — ten  years. 

His  successor.  Rev.  J.  Sidney  Hays,  Avas  installed  May 
7,  1854,  who  died  of  yellow  fever,  August  26,  1855,  hav- 


160  SEMI-CENTENOTAL  OF 

ing  served  one  year  and  four  months.  Sixteen  months 
elapsed  before  the  sad  vacancy  was  filled.  On  Febru- 
ary 1,  1857,  Rev.  T.  R.  Markham,  then  a  licentiate,  was 
engaged  as  a  supply  for  one  year ;  on  May  24  he  was 
ordained  as  an  evangelist;  elected  pastor,  December 
20,  and  installed  on  January  24,  1858.  His  efficient 
ministry  continues  to  the  present  time,  covering  a 
period  of  more  than  sixteen  years. 

On  Sabbath  night,  November  18,  18G0,  tlie  church 
building  was  destroyed  by  fire,  and  the  congregation 
assembled  for  worship  in  Union  Hall  on  Jackson  street, 
until  the  Federal  occupation  of  the  city,  May,  18G2. 
After  the  war,  the  church  held  its  services  in  the  First 
German  Church  on  First  street  until  April,  1867,  when 
they  entered  their  present  comfortable  and  handsome 
building  on  Magazine  street,  above  Jackson,  which  was 
dedicated  on  the  following  Sabbath,  April  14.  The 
cost  of  this  structure,  with  ground,  is  about  $45,000. 

The  growth  of  this  church,  the  first  off-shoot  from 
the  parent  church,  was,  at  first,  gradual  and  slow.  In 
1844,  the  membership  is  reported  to  be  twenty-tliree. 
In  1855,  it  had  increased  only  to  thirty-seven.  In  1858, 
to  fifty.  In  1866,  the  first  year  after  the  war,  the 
church-roll  presents  one  hundred  and  thirty  communi- 
cants, and  in  1873,  this  number  has  increased  to  four 
hundred  and  thirty-five. 

The  next  enterprise  undertaken  resulted  in  the  or- 
ganization of  what  was  known  as  the  Second  Churcli,  at 
the  corner  of  Prytania  and  Calliope  streets,  which  is 
now  extinct,  the  building  having  passed  into  the  hands 
of  another  denomination.  It  appears  from  the  minutes 
of  the  First  Church,  that  on  November  13,  1843,  the 
Rev.  R.  L.  Stanton,  of  Woodville,  accepted  an  invitation 
to  serve  as  a  city  missionary,  and  in  April,  1845,  twenty- 
two  persons  were  set  off  as  a  nucleus  to  form  the  Second 


PRESBYTEKIANISM   IN   NEW   OKLEANR.  IGl 

Chiircli,  under  Mr.  Stanton,  uliose  relations  as  a  mis- 
sionary under  Session  of  First  Church  ceased  about  ^lay 
15  of  the  same  year.  Lots  were  purchased  in  1844  on 
the  corner  of  Prytania  and  Calliope  streets,  and  a  church 
building  erected.  Mr.  Stanton  resigned  about  1852,  to 
assume  the  presidency  of  Oakland  College  ;  and  in  1853 
his  })lace  Avas  sup]ilied  by  Rev.  Dr.  S.  Woodbridge,  who 
died  in  18G3.  The  enterprise  was  never  a  successful 
one,  due,  we  think,  in  -purt  to  its  location,  which,  after 
the  inauguration  of  the  Prytania  Street  Church,  was 
something  like  a  trough  of  the  sea,  between  it  and  the 
First  Church.  After  the  war,  the  church  was  dissolved 
by  act  of  Presbytery,  its  roll  being  transferred  to  the 
Tiialia  Street  Church,  except  in  cases  where  the  mem- 
bers preferred  to  attach  themselves  elsewhere. 

The  next  enterprise  undertaken  laid  the  foundation 
of  what  is  known  as  the  71iird  Clmrcli.  In  the  autumn 
of  1844,  a  few  members  of  the  First  Church  established 
a  Sabbath  school  in  the  Third  district,  under  the  super- 
intendency  of  Mr.  F.  Stringer.  The  ground  floor  of 
No.  20  Moreau  street  was  fitted  up,  and  divine  service 
conducted  by  Rev.  E.  R.  Beadle,  for  about  six  months. 
The  school  was  then  removed  to  Mr.  Elkin's  houSe  on 
Chartres  street.  In  the  fall  of  1845,  Rev.  James  Beattie 
took  charge  of  the  mission,  and  opened  service  in  his 
own  house  on  Esplanade  street,  near  Burgundy.  On 
March  7,  1847,  after  a  sermon  by  Rev.  Dr.  W.  A.  Scott, 
the  Third  Church  was  organized  with  a  colony  of 
eighteen  members  set  off  from  the  First  Church,  F. 
Stringer  and  C.  C.  Lyon,  elders,  Mr.  Beattie  continuing 
in  charge  till  1850,  when  he  removed  with  his  family  to 
the  North. 

In  1848,  a  neat  frame  building,  with  about  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  sittings,  was  erected  on  Casacalvo  street,  at 
an  expense  of  some  82,500,  which  was  occupied  by  the 


162  SEMI-CENTENNIAL   OF 

congregation  until  the  completion  of  its  present  large 
and  tasteful  house  of  worship  on  Washington  square. 
This  building  was  begun  in  1858,  and  completed  by 
January  1,  18G0,  at  a  cost  of  about  $45,000. 

In  December,  1850,  Rev.  D.  S,  Baker  succeeded  Mr. 
Beattie  in  the  pulpit,  and  continued  till  August,  1852. 
From  that  time  till  February,  1854,  the  church  was 
without  a  regular  supply,  when  Rev.  James  Richards 
became  its  pastor,  which  relation  was  terminated  in 
March,  1855,  about  one  year.  From  that  time  to  Janu- 
ary, 1857,  the  church  was  served  by  Rev.  IST.  G.  K"orth, 
at  which  date  begins  the  term  of  its  present  pastor,  the 
Rev.  Dr.  H.  M.  Smith,  lasting  now  almost  seventeen 
years. 

In  1850  the  church  reported  a  membership  of  forty- 
four;  in  1855,  a  membership  of  forty- two;  in  1857,  a 
membership  of  fifty-three;  in  1860,  a  membership  of 
seventy-one;  and  now,  of  one  hundred  and  two.  F. 
Stringer  and  W.  C.  Raymond,  elders. 

The  growth  of  this  church  is  impaired  by  the  constant 
tendency  of  English-speaking  residents  to  move  above 
Canal  street. 

These  three  churches  were  directly  colonized  from  the 
First  Church.  The  Prytania  Street  organization  was 
an  independent  movement,  originating  nearly  at  the 
same  time  and  in  the  same  way  with  the  Third  Church. 
A  mission  Sabbath  school  was  started  up  town.  In 
1846,  three  lots  were  purchased  for  $1,285,  at  the  corner 
of  Prytania  and  Josephine  streets,  and  a  small  frame 
building  erected  at  a  cost  of  $1,342,  which  has  since 
been  enlarged  into  their  present  lecture  room.  The 
Rev.  E.  R.  Beadle,  brought  here  by  the  First  Church  as 
a  city  missionary  in  conjunction  with  the  editorship  of 
the  Neiu  Orleans  Protestant,  was  identified  with  the 
movement  from  the  beginning.     On  May  31,  1846,  the 


rEESBYTERL\NISM   IN   NEW  ORLEiVNS.  163 

chiircli  was  orgjuiized  by  tlie  Presbytery  of  Loiiisiaiia, 
with  twelve  members,  six  male  and  six  female  ;  of  whom 
three  were  from  the  First  Church,  two  from  tlic  Second, 
and  seven  from  the  Fulton  Street,  now  the  Lafayette 
Church.  Mr.  David  lladden  was  the  first  elder,  and 
H.  T.  Bartlett  the  first  deacon.  In  June,  Mr.  Beadle 
was  chosen  pastor,  who  served  six  years,  until  Septem- 
ber, 1852.  During  his  term,  the  present  church  build- 
ing* was  erected,  in  tlie  winters  of  1848-9,  at  a  cost  of 
$l-i,040;  and  the  membership  was  increased  from  twelve 
to  one  hundred  and  thirty. 

The  second  pastor,  Eev.  Isaac  Henderson,  was  called 
in  November,  1852,  and  served  till  April,  18G5,  a  period 
of  twelve  years  and  six  months.  During  an  interval  of 
twenty  months,  the  pulpit  was  supplied  by  the  Rev.  B. 
Wayne  and  Rev.  W.  F.  V.  Barlett,  till  December  9, 
1866,  when  Rev.  R.  Q.  Mallard,  the  present  pastor,  was 
installed. 

The  increase  of  its  communicants  is  as  follows:  At 
its  organization,  in  184G,  twelve;  on  September  21, 
1852,  one  hundred  and  thirty;  on  April  2,  1855,  two 
hundred  and  eleven;  on  March  30,  1857,  one  hundred 
and  ninety-eight;  on  December  9,  1866,  when  present 
pastorship  began,  one  hundred  and  fifty-seven ;  at  the 
present  time,  two  hundred  and  twenty-eight. 

In  January,  1854,  a  colony  of  seventeen  Germans, 
gathered  in  by  Mr.  Young,  as  colporteur,  was  set  off  to 
form  the  First  German  Church,  which,  though  now  in 
connection  with  the  Northern  Assembly,  is  the  direct 
fruit  of  missionary  labor  by  Presbyterians  in  this  city. 

In  1860,  also,  a  colony  of  twelve  was  set  off,  with  Mr. 
n.  T.  Bartlett  at  its  head,  to  reinforce  the  Thalia  Street 
Church.  It  now  maintains  a  flourishing  mission  Sab- 
bath school,  and  has  erected  a  suitable  building  for  the 
same. 


164  SEMI-CENTENNIAL   OF 

Througli  the  agency  of  a  general  committee  of  do- 
mestic missions,  chapels  were  erected  on  Canal  street, 
corner  of  Franklin ;  on  Thalia  street,  corner  of  Frank- 
lin ;  in  Jefferson  City,  and  in  Carrollton.  Their  cost 
cannot  well  be  ascertained,  the  records  of  this  committee 
having  been  lost.  The  property  in  each  case  has  been 
conveyed  to  the  congregations  worshiping  therein,  as 
soon  as  incorporated. 

As  early  as  1845,  Eev.  Noah  F.  Packard  preached  in 
the  Canal  Street  Chapel,  and  died  of  yellow  fever  in 
1846.  On  April  11,  1847,  a  church  was  organized  by 
the  Presbytery  of  Louisiana,  known  as  the  Fourth 
Chin'cli,  with  nine  members,  of  whom  five  were  from  the 
First  Church,  and  four  were  from  abroad.  Heman 
Packard  was  the  first  elder,  and  Alexander  Reid  the 
first  deacon. 

On  March  1,  1848,  a  call  was  made  to  Eev.  Henry  G. 
Blinn,  a  licentiate,  which  was  renewed  November  27 
of  the  same  year,  from  which  moment  his  name  disap- 
pears from  the  record. 

On  March  12,  1854,  Rev.  William  McConnell  was 
chosen  pastor,  the  membership  being  twenty-five,  which 
soon  increased  to  fifty-two,  and  in  1857  to  sixty-nine; 
Viall,  Young,  and  Henderson  being  added  to  the  elder- 
ship. 

Rev.  Gaylord  L.  Moore  succeeded  Mr.  McConnell  as 
pastor  from  1858  to  May,  1863.  During  his  administra- 
tion a  new  and  large  church  was  built,  at  a  cost  of  over 
$40,000,  on  the  corner  of  Gasquet  and  Liberty  streets, 
the  basement  of  which  was  occupied  in  Ma)^,  1860,  and 
the  church  itself  dedicated  in  November  of  the  same 
year.  Mr.  Moore  returned  in  the  autumn  of  1865,  after 
the  war,  and  remained  in  charge  of  the  pulpit  till  June, 
1868.  He  was  succeeded  in  December  of  that  year  by 
Rev.  A.   F.  Dickson,  whose  term  of  service  continued 


PRESBYTEllLVXISM   IN  NEW   ORLEANS.  165 

three  years.  Under  a  financial  pressure,  the  clinrcli 
buikling  Mas  sold  in  May,  1871,  and  a  better  location 
purchased,  and  a  new  but  smaller  building  erected,  at 
the  corner  of  Canal  and  Dorbigny  streets.  Tlie  enter- 
prise is  now  free  from  debt,  and  only  needs  a  faitliful 
pastor  in  order  to  spring  forth  upon  a  more  hopeful 
career.  Its  present  membership  is  one  hundred  and 
thirty-five. 

An  attempt  to  organize  a  church  in  the  Thalia  Chapel 
was  made  by  Rev.  N.  G.  North,  as  early  as  January  16, 
1853,  with  seventeen  members.  The  organization  was 
not  completed  by  the  election  of  elders,  and  appears  to 
have  lapsed.  An  irregular  mission  was  maintained, 
principally  through  a  Sabbath  school,  till  June,  1860; 
when  a  church  was  fully  organized  by  the  Presbytery 
with  twelve  members  set  off'  from  Prytania  Street  con- 
gregation, and  two  additional  on  profession.  H.  T. 
Bartlett  and  A.  D.  Donovan  were  the  first  elders ;  A.  E. 
Gillett,  F.  Beaumont,  and  J.  A.  Hall,  the  first  deacons. 

The  infant  church  was  served  by  Eev.  Dr.  Wm.  Fisher, 
from  :N"ovember,  1860,  to  May  30,  1861.  On  October 
27,  1861,  Rev.  W.  A.  Hall  was  called  to  the  pastorate, 
and  resigned  October  25,  1866,  five  years.  On  Decem- 
ber 12, 1867,  Rev.  W.  C.  Dunlap  became  the  suppl}^,  and 
closed  his  connection,  October  4,  1868.  On  February 
5,  1869,  Rev.  Wm.  Flinn  was  chosen  pastor,  and  was  in- 
stalled in  the  April  following.  During  this  pastorate, 
which  still  happily  continues,  one  hundred  and  six  have 
been  added  to  the  church  membership,  of  whom  seventy- 
three  have  been  received  on  profession  of  faith.  The 
congregation  has  built  a  comfortable  parsonage,  and 
hoi)es  soon  to  erect  a  new  house  of  worship,  corner  of 
Franklin  and  Euterpe  streets,  for  which  it  has  funds  in 
bank  between  815,000  and  816,000,  and  for  which  its 
present  property  will  be  further  available. 


166  SEMI-CENTENNIAL  OF 

In  the  lioiiligny  chapel,  built  1850,  an  irregular  mis- 
sion was  conducted  with  yarying  success,  till  1860,  when 
regular  preaching  was  begun  there  by  Eev.  B.  Wayne. 
In  May,  18G1,  a  church  was  organized  by  the  Presbytery 
of  New  Orleans,  now  known  as  the  Napoleon  Avenue 
Church,  with  twenty  members,  John  Dyer,  the  only  elder. 
The  war  came  on,  and  everything  was  suspended;  on 
the  return  of  peace,  services  were  resumed,  and  have 
since  been  regularly  maintained.  In  March,  1870,  the 
present  location  on  Napoleon  avenue  was  purchased; 
in  December,  1871,  a  new  brick  building  was  com- 
menced, and  sufficiently  finished  in  July,  1872,  to  be 
occupied,  in  a  rude  and  incomplete  condition.  During 
the  past  season  it  has  been  entirely  finished,  and  in  Sep- 
tember, 1873,  was  publicly  dedicated,  free  of  debt,  to  the 
worship  of  Almighty  God.  This  handsome  structure, 
with  all  its  appointments,  and  with  the  ground  on  which 
it  stands,  has  cost  the  sum  of  $18,000,  a  monument  to 
the  liberality  of  our  people,  and  to  the  enterprise  and 
zeal  of  the  pastor  and  congregation  who  have  persist- 
ently carried  it  through.  Chiefly  since  the  war,  one 
hundred  and  forty-eight  persons  have  been  received 
into  its  membership,  of  whom  one  hundred  and  eleven 
were  on  profession  of  faith.  The  present  roll  numbers 
seventy  members.  Messrs.  G.  W.  H.  Marr  and  S.  McGin- 
nis  are  the  elders. 

On  September  1, 1855,  a  church  was  organized  by  the 
Presbytery,  at  Carrollton,  with  seventeen  members,  of 
whom  seven  were  from  the  First  Church,  nine  from 
the  Prytania  Street  Church,  and  one  from  the  Second 
Church ;  J.  S.  McComb,  II.  T.  Bartlett,  and  E.  G.  Lat- 
ting  were  chosen  elders.  On  February  4,  1856,  Rev. 
N.  P.  Chamberlain  was  chosen  pastor,  and  served  in  this 
relation  till  January  31,  1858,  a  period  of  two  years. 
The  pulpit  was  kept  open  by  supplies,  principally  Rev. 


PRESBYTERIANISM  IN  NEW  ORLEANS.  1G7 

Dr.  J.  R.  Ilutcliison,  Principal  of  Belle  Grove  Collegiiite 
Institute,  till  everything  was  broken  up  by  the  war,  and 
Dr.  Hutchison  removed  to  Houston.  In  18GG,  it  ai)pear- 
ing-  tliat  the  church  had  been  so  reduced  that  tliere  were 
no  elders,  and  not  even  a  male  member,  Carrollton  was 
taken  under  care  of  the  Presbytery  as  a  Mission  station, 
and  is  at  present  held  as  such  against  a  better  time  for 
re-organizjition.  It  enjoys  the  efficient  labors  of  Elder 
Joseph  A.  Maybin,  which  have  been  greatly  blessed,  and 
yield  promise  that  the  church  may  at  no  distant  day  be 
revived. 

In  this  roll  of  our  churches  must  be  added  the  Second 
German  Cliurclt.  organized  during  the  war;  with  its 
pastor.  Rev.  F.  0.  Koelle,  and  a  membership  of  iifty-six, 
it  is  now  in  full  connection  with  the  Presbytery  of  Isaw 
Orleans.  Its  handsome  and  commodious  house  of  wor- 
ship is  on  lower  Claiborne  street. 

The  limits  within  which  we  are  restrained  will  not 
suffer  any  mention  to  be  made  of  the  efforts  to  establish 
a  religious  newspaper,  and  also  a  Depository;  except  to 
say,  that  after  innumerable  backsets,  they  have  both 
proved  successful;  the  Synod  of  Mississippi  being  in 
possession  of  a  valuable  property  in  its  Depository  build- 
ing, and  also  of  an  able  and  influential  paper,  edited  by 
the  Rev.  Dr.  Smith. 

From  this  meager  sketch,  we  may  gather  some  im- 
pression of  the  growth  of  Presbyterianism  in  this  city. 
In  1818,  it  started  from  nothing;  in  1823,  the  church 
re-organized  with  twenty-four  members.  Ten  years  later 
it  found  itself  thrown  back  npou  this  identical  number, 
and  was  forced  to  begin  ancAV  in  the  midst  of  feuds  and 
dissensions,  and  with  its  good  name  discredited  before 
the  world.  Our  real  progress  dates  from  1833,  start- 
ing with  twenty-four;  to-day,  after  the  lapse  of  forty 
years,  we  count  nine  organized  churches,  including  the 


168  SEMI-CENTENNIAL  OF 

First  German ;  which,  though  it  has  bolted,  and  is  now 
under  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Northern  Assembly,  is 
nevertheless  a  part  of  this  historical  development  aud  a 
fruit  of  missionary  zeal  put  forth  by  ourselves.  In  ad- 
dition, there  are  two  or  three  hopeful  Mission  stations, 
where  the  experience  of  the  past  justifies  the  expectation 
that  they  will  eventually  crystallize  into  churches.  Our 
original  number  of  twenty-three  has  increased  nearly  to 
two  thousand  communicants;  and  with  about  two  thou- 
sand three  hundred  children  in  our  various  Sabbath 
schools.  "Though  our  beginning  was  small,  yet  our 
latter  end  hath  greatly  increased."  We  may  truly  say 
with  the  Patriarch  Jacob,  "  with  my  staff  I  passed  over 
this  Jordan,  and  now  I  am  become  two  bands."  Surely 
on  this  Fiftieth  Anniversary,  we  may  exclaim,  looking 
back  over  the  past,  "What  hath  God  wrought!"  With 
our  present  point  of  support,  and  the  immense  leverage 
we  have  thereby  gained,  what  may  not  be  accomplished 
during  the  fifty  years  which  are  to  come!  May  God 
give  to  us,  and  to  those  who  shall  succeed  us,  grace  to 
fulfill  the  precious  and  solemn  trust;  that  when  the 
Century  of  Presbyterianism  shall  be  observed  here,  "  the 
handful  of  corn,"  sown  by  our  fathers  "  upon  the  top  of 
the  mountain,"  may  be  seen  in  "its  fruit  to  shake  like 
Lebanon" — and  "they  of  the  city  to  flourish  like  grass 
of  the  earth!" 

Eev.  Wm.  Flinn  read  the  Hymn, 

"  Glorious  tilings  of  thee  are  spoken, 
Zion,  City  of  our  God," 

and  the  congregation  rose  and  sang. 

REMIJ^ISCENCES. 

The  venerable  Joseph  A.  Maybin,  for  forty-five  years 
a  ruling  elder,  and  the   oldest   surviving  member  of 


PRESBYTERIANISM   IN  NEW  ORLEANS.  169 

tliis  church,  followed,  with  interesting  personal  remi- 
niscences, beginning  with  Larned's  iirrival  in  the  city, 
January  22,  1818. 

The  following  is  a  synopsis. 

At  that  time  there  was  little  of  the  city  this  side  of 
Canal  street.  There  was  then  only  one  Protestant 
church  below  Canal,  and  that  was  Episcopal,  situated 
on  the  corner  of  Bourbon  and  Canal  streets. 

Sylvester  Larned,  the  first  Presbyterian  minister,  ar- 
rived in  this  city  about  the  time  that  the  present  min- 
ister of  the  First  Presbyterian  Church  was  born.  The 
Kev.  Mr.  Hull,  the  Episcopal  minister,  generously  per- 
mitted the  use  of  his  church  to  the  Presbyterians  from 
one  until  four  in  the  afternoon,  at  which  hours  Mr. 
Larned  would  preach.  His  eloquence  soon  attracted 
attention,  and  an  effort  was  made  to  erect  a  Presbyte- 
rian place  of  worship.  Some  were  of  the  opinion  that 
Kew  Orleans  could  not  support  two  Protestant  places 
of  worship — the  city  was  too  small  for  that — yet,  not- 
withstanding, the  Presbyterians  were  successful  in  ob- 
taining a  place  of  worship  on  the  site  of  the  building 
now  occupied  by  Stauffer,  Macready  &  Co.,  on  -Canal 
street. 

Mr.  Larned  attended  the  Presbytery  of  Mississippi 
the  year  before  his  death.  AVhile  there,  the  yellow  fever 
broke  out  in  the  city,  and  he  was  advised,  by  his  trustees 
and  the  physicians,  not  to  return  to  New  Orleans  until 
the  danger  had  passed.  To  this  he  consented  reluc- 
tantly; and  his  sensitive  spirit,  being  galled  by  the  re- 
proach that  he  had  fled  from  the  fever,  the  next  year  lie 
stood  at  his  post  like  the  brave  man  that  he  was.  His 
sense  of  honor  would  not  allow  him  to  leave,  and  he 
remained  in  New  Orleans  to  die.  From  the  little  one- 
story  building  on  Camp  street,  nearly  opposite  the  i\\>- 
})er  corner  of  Lalayette  square,  within  a  square  of  this 


170  SEm-CENTENNIAL  OF 

church,  all  that  remained  of  Sylvester  Larned  was  con- 
veyed to  the  Girod  street  cemetery. 

He  was  a  man  of  strong  social  feelings,  peculiarly 
adapted  to  2:>lease  the  Southern  people.  He  had  a  heart 
"broad  as  the  heavens  and  deep  as  the  ocean."  His 
brow  was  open,  his  eye  gentle,  features  intellectual; 
in  person  reminding  you  of  the  Apollo  Belvidere;  of  a 
sweet  and  affectionate  disposition,  and  a  "  silver-tongued 
voice  "  that  rolled  music,  and  captivated  all  his  hearers. 
Said  a  distinguished  judge  once  of  him,  "I  cannot  go  to 
hear  that  young  man  because  he  makes  me  shed  tears." 

Mr.  Clapp  was  a  great  conversationalist.  His  style 
of  delivery  was  impressive  and  eloquent.  His  mind 
was  neither  analytical  nor  logical,  still  less,  profound. 
He  impressed  his  audience  and  had  many  warm  per- 
sonal friends,  whom  he  retained  even  after  he  left  this 
city,  and  Avho  generously  contributed  to  his  support  until 
his  death  at  Louisville  in  1866. 

The  Eev.  Mr.  Parker,  who  followed  Mr.  Clapp, 
walked  from  his  home  in  Vermont  to  Union  College  at 
Schenectady,  New  York.  He  represented  to  the  pro- 
fessors that  his  father  was  a  poor  farmer  and  a  revolu- 
tionary soldier,  that  he  could  not  afford  to  furnish  the 
money  required  for  his  education,  but  that  if  they 
would  give  him  work,  he  would  try  and  repay  them  for 
the  trouble  and  expense  of  his  graduation.  The  pro- 
fessors were  pleased  with  his  determination,  and  Parker 
studied  for  the  ministry.  He  was  a  man  of  great  de- 
cision of  character,  vigorous  and  logical,  plaiii  in  person, 
not  prepossessing  in  feature,  and  not  calculated  to  ob- 
tain and  keep  personal  friends.  Yet  he  was  a  man 
spoken  of  as  having  the  highest  order  of  talent  as  a 
minister  of  the  Gospel. 

In  the  summer  of  1831  he  was  sent  North  to 
solicit    subscriptions    in    the    larger    cities,    for     the 


PEESBYTERIANISM  IN  NEW  ORLEANS.  171 

purpose  of  obtaining,  if  possible,  a  sum  sufficient  to 
finish  the  church  tiien  building.  While  on  the  tour  it 
was  represented  that  he  had  stated  "that  there  were 
forty  thousand  Catholics  in  the  city  of  New  Orleans 
who  were  atheists,  and  that  the  Protestants  were  no 
better."  This  statement  was  published  in  the  news- 
papers and  copied  into  the  Neio  Orleans  Bulletin, 
creating  great  excitement  and  indignation.  Mr.  Parker 
replied  to  the  charges  made  in  one  of  the  newspapers 
North,  denying  that  he  had  made  any  such  statement. 
The  Ma3'or  of  this  city  advised  that  "that  i^riest"  be 
sent  away,  and — if  Mr.  Maybin  was  not  mistaken — a 
proclamation  was  issued  commanding  the  peace.  When 
it  was  known  that  he  was  returning  to  this  city  word 
was  sent  to  the  Balize  that  he  be  landed  before  the  ar- 
rival of  the  packet  in  New  Orleans,  and  Mr.  Parker  was 
accordingly  put  off  at  the  English  turn.  The  next  day 
he  arrived  in  New  Orleans,  and  appeared  upon  the 
streets  to  vindicate  his  innocence.  A  meeting  was  called 
the  next  day  at  the  City  Hotel,  at  which  Mr.  Parker 
was  requested  to  explain.  He  made  a  clear  statement, 
but  the  people  were  not  satisfied.  Eesolutions  were  drawn 
up  and  passed,  that  he  leave  the  city,  that  the  elders  of 
the  church  dismiss  him,  etc.  A  meeting  of  the  members 
of  the  church  was  immediately  called.  Fifty  attended. 
They  one  and  all  supported  Mr.  Parker  as  being  in  the 
right.  They  all  believed  his  representation  made  at 
the  City  Hotel,  and  declared  they  had  a  right  to  have 
for  a  pastor  whom  they  pleased,  and  they  intended  to 
maintain  that  right;  and  they  did,  and  Mr.  Parker  was 
retained.  That  was  a  trying  hour  in  the  history  of  the 
Protestant  Church  in  this  city,  but  the  storm  was 
weathered.  If  Mr.  Parker  was  abandoned,  what  secu- 
rity had  other  pastors  that  they  would  be  retained. 
They  were  weak,  feeble,  discouraged,   but  they  stood 


172  SEMI-CENTENNIAL  OF 

their  ground  and  conquered.  Like  the  weak  little  band 
of  Apostles  on  the  sea  of  G-alilee  when  they  called  upon 
the  Saviour  to  stay  the  storm,  while  the  waves  ran 
mountain  high  and  threatened  to  dash  their  little  bark 
to  pieces,  the  storm  was  hushed  by  the  Master.  He 
said  to  the  waves  "be  still,"  and  they  went  down.  He 
bade  the  winds  to  cease,  and  they  slept  as  gently  as  a 
babe  upon  the  bosom  of  its  mother. 

Eev.  Dr.  John  Breckinridge,  descended  from  the 
pioneer  stock  of  Kentucky  heroes,  was  the  next  pastor. 
A  courteous  aud  polished  gentleman,  with  a  sweet  voice 
and  allow  of  native  eloquence,  but  a  feeble  frame  ;  his 
brief  pastorate  was  soon  closed  by  death.  His  successor 
was  Rev.  W.  A.  Scott,  who  at  the  age  of  eighteen,  en- 
tered the  army  as  Chaplain,  by  appointment  from  Presi- 
dent Jackson,  and  was  thus  enabled  to  save  sufiicient 
money  to  finish  his  theological  education  at  Princeton. 

Mr.  Scott  was  called  to  this  position  from  the 
pastoral  charge  of  the  church  at  Tuscaloosa,  Ala., 
his  Presbytery,  as  in  the  case  of  the  present  pastor, 
having  at  first  refused  to  place  the  call  in  his  hands. 
Dr.  Scott  was  an  attractive  and  eloquent  preacher, 
distinguished  for  his  ability  to  set  forth  the  truth  by 
illustrations  drawn  •from  all  sources,  whether  from  na- 
ture or  the  customs  and  institutions  of  men. 

In  referring  to  those  who  rendered  most  effective 
co-operation  in  building  up  Presbyterianism  in  New 
Orleans  he  paid  a  passing  tribute  to  the  late  Nathan 
Goodale,  elder  of  the  Lafayette  Church — "whose  every 
vein  was  filled  with  philanthropy."  All  honor  to  the 
little  band  of  twenty-four,  who  comprised  the  original 
church  organization — would  you  see  their  monument — 
look  around  upon  this  congregation  !  "  Are  they  not 
at  this  moment,  while  singing  their  songs  of  everlast- 
ing praise — looking  down  on  this  scene  from  Heaven  ?  " 


PRESBYTEIILINISM  IN   NEW   OKLEANS.  173 

You  see  before  you  the  lust  elder  of  that  baud — 
staudiug  as  au  isthmus  betweeu  the  preseut  aud  the 
past,  the  last  conuectiug  liuk.  It  is  to  me  a  crushiug 
thought. 

Ou  this  occasion,  and  it  may  be  my  last  opportunity, 
I  desire  to  return  my  humble  and  heartfelt  thanks 
to  the  pastor,  elders,  and  members  of  this  church  for 
all  the  kindness  I  have  ever  received  at  their  hands. 

And  now  I  want  to  declare  that  it  is  my  wish  to 
die  in  the  service  of  this  honored  church ;  and  that 
my  children  and  children's  children  may  die  in  the 
same  faith.  I  stand  here — a  brand  snatched  from  the 
burning.  And  when  I  die  let  it  be  inscribed  on  my 
coffin  over  my  heart,  "It  is  a  faithful  saying  and 
worthy  of  all  acceptation,  that  Jesus  Christ  came  into 
the  world  to  save  sinners,  of  whom  I — I — I — am  chief!  '* 

The  congregation  then  sang, 

"  I  love  tliy  Kingdom,  Lord." 
Dr.  Smith  then  read  the  following  historical  paper : 

CTHE    ORIGII^    AN'D     GROWTH    OF    PRESBYTERIA:NISM    IN" 
THE   SOUTHWEST. 

The  history  of  our  Church  in  New  Orleans,  belongs 
to  the  history  of  the  Church  in  the  Southwest.  We  shall 
better  appreciate  the  significance  of  the  chapter  which 
concludes  our  work,  if  we  glance  at  the  more  general 
movement  of  which  it  forms  such  an  important  part. 
To  do  this,  we  must  go  back  into  the  past  more  than 
a  quarter  of  a  century  before  our  work  in  the  city  was 
organized ;  even  to  the  times  when  the  tide  of  our 
immigration  was  first  turned  in  this  direction. 

The  settlement  of  the  Southwest  was  much  encour- 
aged by  the  policy  of  the  British  GoverDment.  At  the 
close  of  the   French  war   of  17G3,  she   obtained  the 


174  SEMI-CENTENNIAL  OP 

Natchez  country  and  East  and  West  Florida.  "West 
Florida  was  attached  to  the  Natchez  country,  and  set- 
tlers were  attracted  by  liberal  grants  of  land. 

One  result — unfortunately — of  our  war  of  the  Eevo- 
lution  was,  that  this  country  was  ceded  back  to  Spain. 
The  Natchez  country  thus  became  a  Spanish  Province, 
and  continued  to  be  for  twenty  years.  By  the  Spanish 
authorities  Protestant  worship  was  decreed  to  be  a 
criminal  offense.  Intolerant  laws  were  enacted  and  re- 
morselessly enforced.  Three  quarters  of  a  century  ago 
Presbyterians  at  Natchez  could  not  worship  God  with- 
out a  sentinel  at  the  door  to  warn  them  of  danger. 
Persons  detected  in  this  crime  were  arrested,  thrown 
into  a  filthy  prison  until  they  gave  bonds  not  to  repeat 
the  offense,  and  were  threatened  if  detected  in  repeating 
this  offense  to  be  sent  to  the  mines  of  Mexico.  Many 
were  imprisoned.  Among  those  imprisoned  for  holding 
prayer-meetings  was  John  Bolls,  a  ruling  elder  of  the 
Presbyterian  Church,  from  North  Carolina,  who  had 
served  in  the  Eevolutionary  war. 

John  Bolls  was  not  destined  to  slavery  in  the  mines 
of  Mexico,  for  this  distressing  state  of  things  at 
length  came  to  an  end.  On  the  night  of  March  29, 
1798j  the  Spanish  commandant  evacuated  the  post. 
Next  morning  the  American  flag  floated  from  the  walls 
of  Fort  St.  Rosalie,  and  religious  liberty  found  shelter 
beneath  its  folds. 

It  would  be  hard  to  enumerate  the  various  routes  by 
which  you  may  gain  access  to  the  Southwest  now,  but 
in  the  year  A.  D.  1800,  the  best  known  land  route  was 
a  bridle  path.  The  Natchez  trace  was  an  Indian  trail 
from  Nashville,  which  could  be  traveled  only  on  horse- 
back or  on  foot.  It  passed  through  tangled  forests  and 
swamps,  through  warlike  Indian  tribes,  and  was  infested 
by  bands  of  lawless  desperadoes,  more  dreaded  than  the 


PRESBYTEMANISM  IN  NEW  ORUEANS.  175 

Indians  tliemselves.  Along  this  friendless  path  came 
Hall,  Montgomery,  and  Bowman,  missionaries  sent  from 
the  Synod  of  the  Carolinas.  Amidst  the  perils  of  this 
adventurous  journey  they  found,  at  Pontotoc,  Joseph 
Biillen,  missionary  to  the  Indians,  sent  there  by  the 
Xew  York  Missionary  Society  in  1797,  and  after  meet- 
ing this  sympathizing  laborer  they  entered  again  on 
their  perilous  journey,  evaded  death  and  outstripped 
starvation,  and,  liually,  reached  Natchez,  the  field  of 
their  future  labors.  These  were  the  pioneers  of  our 
Church  in  the  Southwest. 

At  that  time  there  were  about  seven  thousand  Ameri- 
cans in  the  province.  From  many  of  these  the  mission- 
aries met  a  cordial  reception.  With  Natchez  as  their 
headquarters,  they  entered  on  their  work,  and  visited 
the  settlements,  and  established  preaching  places ; 
gathering  up  the  scattered  Presbyterians  and  forming 
them  into  communities,  soon  to  grow  up  into  organized 
churches.  In  a  year  or  two  they  returned  home.  But 
Joseph  Bullen,  the  Indian  missionary,  took  up  the  work 
they  had  begun.  Coming  southward  in  1803,  he  preached 
with  great  acceptability  to  these  congregations.  And  in 
A.  D.  1804,  it  was  his  privilege  to  organize  the  first  Pres- 
byterian church  established  in  the  Southwest.  It  was 
well  named  Bethel.  It  has  survived,  too,  the  many 
changes  that  have  intervened,  and  is  existing  still. 

For  years  afterwards,  the  Synod  of  the  Carolinas  con- 
tinued to  send  missionaries  to  this  field,  and  other 
churches  were  organized  from  time  to  time.  At  length 
the  need  of  Presbyterial  jurisdiction  came  to  be  felt. 
At  that  time  the  general  jurisdiction  of  this  region  was 
vested  in  the  Synod  of  Kentucky.  Ten  years  after  the 
first  church  was  organized,  the  Synod  of  Kentucky  was 
overtured  to  establish  the  Presbylery  of  Mississippiy 
which?  was  done  a.  d.  1815.    And   the  name  of  John 


176  SEMI-CENTENNIAL  OF 

Bolls  stands  first  on  the  list  of  its  ruling  elders,  as  the 
representative  of  the  first  church  organized  in  the  South- 
west. 

In  the  year  1818,  the  honored  name  of  Sylvester 
Larned  was  added  to  the  list  of  its  members.  And  in 
1823  the  Presbyterian  Church  in  New  Orleans  was 
placed  upon  its  roll,  and  two  important  streams  of  in- 
fluence coalesced,  to  form  thereafter  but  one  current  of 
moral  energy. 

The  Presbytery  of  Mississippi,  when  organized,  formed 
part  of  the  Synod  of  Kentucky.  The  movement  of 
population,  and  the  expansion  of  our  church,  involved 
certain  changes  in  its  subsequent  relations.  In  1817, 
it  was  associated  with  the  Synod  of  Tennessee.  In 
1826,  we  find  it  placed  upon  the  roll  of  the  Synod  of 
West  Tennessee.  But  in  18,29,  in  connection  with  other 
Presbyteries,  which  appear  to  have  been  set  off  from  its 
territory,  it  was  erected  into  a  Synod,  called  the  Synod 
of  Mississippi  and  South  Alabama.  In  1835,  three 
Presbyteries  were  set  off  from  this  growing  Synod  to 
form  the  Synod  of  Alabama,  and  from  that  time  it  is 
known  as  the  Synod  of  Mississipjn.  God  so  prospered 
this  Synod,  that  in  1817  it  became  necessary  to  divide 
it  again,  an(i  four  more  Presbyteries  were  set  off  to  form 
the  Synod  of  Mejnphis.  And  in  1851,  three  more  of  its 
Presbyteries  were  erected  into  the  Synod  of  Texas.  And 
in  1852,  out  of  the  territory  ceded  to  the  Synod  of 
Memphis,  there  was  formed  still  another  Synod,  the 
Synod  of  Arkansas. 

In  the  light  of  this  interesting  record,  the  unity  of 
sentiment  and  harmony  of  purpose  which  have  hitherto 
prevailed  among  us  in  the  Southwest,  cannot  seem  sur- 
prising. Our  membership  is  largely  drawn  by  descent 
from  the  Presbyterian  stock  of  the  best  of  the  older  com- 
munities ;  bound  together  by  strong  ecclesiastic^  fam- 


PRESBYTEKIANISM  IN  NEW  OrvLE.\.NS.  177 

i]y-iies;  linked  together  in  common  interests,  and  labor- 
ing shoulder  to  shoulder  in  a  common  cause ;  we  con- 
stitute, to  a  large  extent,  a  homogeneous  Presbyterianism, 
whose  moral  influence,  if  combined  and  wisely  directed, 
must  prove  a  permanent  benefit  to  the  world. 

The  piety  of  those  formative  times  was  bold  and  ag- 
gressive. For  many  years,  while  the  country  as  yet  was 
new,  camp-meetings  were  annually  held  at  some  central 
point,  easy  of  access  to  a  wide  region  of  country.  To 
these  points  people  from  long  distances  Avould  come,  to 
spend  a  week  or  two  in  waiting  on  God,  and  seeking 
his  face.  Immense  assemblies  would  congregate  in 
these  cathedrals  of  the  wilderness,  and  great  religious 
revivals  were  often  the  result.  The  utmost  decorum 
prevailed  on  such  occasions,  and  unbounded  hospitality 
made  all  comers  welcome.  It  was  not  unusual  for  the 
Presbyteries  to  convene  at  these  meetings.  And  on  one 
occasion,  as  we  told,  a  meeting  of  the  Synod  was  held. 

The  style  of  doing  the  work  of  the  Gospel  was  adapted 
to  the  needs  of  the  times.  And  the  work  was  blessed. 
These  meetings  were  not  discontinued  until  facilities 
for  public  worship  became  more  abundant,  when  the 
necessity  for  them  had  accordingly  passed  away. 

The  spirit  of  the  Synod,  also,  was  a  missfonary  spirit. 
With  such  men  as  Montgomery,  Smylie,  Kingsbury, 
Alfred  Wright,  Moore,  and  Chase,  men  of  apostolic  zeal, 
amongst  its  members,  it  could  not  be  otherwise.  Such 
men  prosecuted  their  missionary  work  under  its  juris- 
diction. After  the  manner  of  the  Synod  of  the  Caro- 
linas,  it  sent  out  its  evangelists  into  the  broad  domain 
of  Texas,  as  soon  as  the  Republic  was  established.  And 
we  find  it  overturing  the  Assembly  to  consider  the  ques- 
tion of  sending  missionaries  to  Mexico  and  Oregon.  lb 
never  shrunk  from  the  call  to  press  the  evangelistic 
work  in  any  direction.     So  that,  in  the  course  of  time. 


178  SEMI-CENTENNIAL  OF 

there  has  passed  under  its  jurisdiction  a  territory  which 
stretches  from  Georgia  to  the  Rio  Grande,  and  which 
reaches  northward  far  enough  to  include  the  State  of 
Arkansas,  and  the  Indian  nation. 

Texas  will  have  a  religious  history  of  its  own,  and  it 
will  be  characteristic,  as  it  ought  to  be.  It  will  be 
found  that  it  was  born  in  battle — the  offspring  of  that 
struggle  for  constitutional  liberty  which  planted  Travis, 
Bonham,  and  Crockett,  with  their  little  band  of  heroes, 
in  the  path  of  the  ferocious  army  of  Santa  Anna.  The 
massacre  of  the  Alamo,  in  1836,  was  undoubtedly  the 
Thermopylae  of  civil  and  religious  liberty  for  the  far 
Southwest. 

That  form  of  Christianity  will  best  succeed  among 
its  diversified  and  scattered  communities  which  most 
clearly  enunciates  the  simple  principles  of  the  Gospel, 
and  best  illustrates  the  power  of  vital  godliness.  In 
these  respects,  it  seems  to  us,  our  Church  in  that  State 
has  a  great  work  before  it.  So  we  find  one  little  band 
borrowing  the  use  of  a  blacksmith's  shop  to  inaugurate 
public  worship,  then  and  there  laying  the  foundations 
of  an  important  and  influential  church.  Elsewhere  we 
see  some  Scotch-Irish  elder  assembling  his  neighbors 
in  his  house 'for  prayer- meetings,  and  laying  the  founda- 
tions of  another  church.  And  again,  we  find  the  un- 
converted son  of  pious  parents  appalled  by  the  sur- 
rounding destitutions,  feeling  that  the  responsibility 
for  the  continuance  of  this  spiritual  ignorance  rests  on 
his  own  conscience,  essaying  to  meet  it  by  establishing 
Sabbath-schools  and  Bible-classes ;  and  carrying  them 
on,  to  the  best  of  his  ability,  until  such  time  as  it  may 
please  God  to  relieve  him  from  the  duty,  which  God  so 
mysteriously  laid  upon  him.  In  so  far  as  our  people 
courageously  accept  these  allotments  of  Providence, 
they  represent  a  form  of  Christianity  full  of  vital  force 


PRESBYTERIANISM  IN  NEW  ORLEANS.      179 

and  growth,  and  set  forth,  by  pure  principles  and  a  con- 
sistent, earnest  activity,  that  blessed  Gospel  which  in 
all  possible  emergencies  is  the  one  thing  needful  for 
man.  No  one  can  tell  how  much,  and  in  how  many 
instances,  the  Gospel  has  been,  and  still  is,  proclaimed 
in  our  sister  State  through  such  unpretending  but 
noble  instruments.  The  coming  years  will  rejoice  in 
the  harvest,  but  the  names  of  those  who  planted  for  it, 
it  must  be  left  for  eternity  to  disclose. 

It  becomes  us,  also,  to  refer  with  gratitude  to  the  re- 
sults of  our  work,  as  a  Church,  among  the  Indian  tribes 
of  the  Southwest.  It  ig  a  much  greater  work  than  is 
generally  known.  There  is  far  more  piety  and  Chris- 
tian character,  and  a  far  greater  knowledge  and  appre- 
ciation of  Christian  truth,  among  the  tribes  brought 
into  contact  with  the  institutions  of  Christianity  than 
is  believed  by  the  uninformed.  In  the  bounds  of  the 
Creek  nation,  the  Baptists  report  twenty-four  ordained 
Indian  preachers,  some  of  whom  are  well  known  Creek 
and  Seminole  chiefs.  The  Methodist  Church  South 
can  claim  a  similar  record.  From  the  times  of  Joseph 
Bullen,  the  Indian  missionary  and  founder  of  the  First 
Presbyterian  Church  in  the  Southwest,  until  to-day,  our 
church  has  evinced  a  deep  and  constant  interest  in  the 
welfare  of  those  tribes.  Perhaps  the  most  important 
mission  work  among  them  is  conducted  by  the  South- 
ern Presbyterian  Church.  And  what  is  the  result  of 
these  various  labors  ?  It  is  this.  They  have  printing- 
presses,  newspapers,  and  books;  they  have  preachers  of 
their  own  race — men  of  culture,  piety,  and  moral  power; 
and,  in  proportion  to  their  population,  the  people  of  the 
Indian  nation  have  more  schools,  more  churclies,  attend 
more  largely  religious  Avorship,  and  contribute  more 
money  for  religious  purposes  than  the  people  of  any 
Territory  in  the  United  States. 


180  SEMI-CENTEKNIAL  OF 

It  is  a  strange  mistake  to  suppose  that  the  nature  of 
the  Indian  cannot  be  brought  under  the  power  of  the 
principles  of  the  Gospel.  At  a  Bible  Anniversary  in  one 
of  our  AVestern  cities  not  .long  since,  one  of  those  Indian 
chiefs  stepped  forward,  and  with  intense  feeling,  said, 
"When  I  come  from  among  my  people  and  visit  the 
cities,  I  hear  white  men  debating,  whether  it  is  of  any 
use  to  send  the  Gospel  to  the  heathen?  Some  seem  to 
think  that  it  is  of  no  use ;  that  the  Gospel  cannot  con- 
vert the  heathen.  It  is  of  use  to  send  the  Gospel  to 
the  heathen.  I  and  my  people  were  heathen ;  we  be- 
lieved in  all  its  silly  and  degrading  superstitions ;  we 
worshiped  we  knew  not  what ;  we  knew  of  no  future 
for  the  soul ;  we  were  without  God  .and  without  hope. 
But  now  the  true  light  shines  among  us.  We  know  and 
love  God,  and  we  live  in  hope  of  a  happy  home  beyond 
the  grave.  This  is  what  the  Gospel  has  done  for  us. 
Let  no  man  doubt  that  the  Gospel  has  power  to  convert 
the  heathen  !     I  was  a  heathen,  and  it  converted  me." 

Who  shall  gainsay  such  testimony  to  the  work  which 
it  has  pleased  God  to  accomplish,  by  those  who  have 
preceded  us  in  this  field  ? 

Our  Church  in  the  Southwest  may  not  boast  of  having 
achieved  all  that  it  aimed  to  achieve.  Perhaps  a  sense 
of  comparative  failure  and  shortcoming  has  attended 
its  most  successful  enterprises.  Nevertheless,  there  is 
much  to  gratify  a  Christian  heart  in  the  contrast  be- 
tween its  present  efficiency  and  its  humble  origin. 
There  is  no  great  interval  between  the  extensive  relig- 
ious liberty  and  influence  which  Ave  enjoy  to-day,  and 
that  Spanish  prison  at  Natchez — and  the  connection  is 
not  hard  to  trace.  It  is  onlj  another  illustration  of 
God's  fidelity  in  rewarding  the  devotedness  of  his  ser- 
vants. John  Bolls'  prayer-meeting  led  him  to  a  Spanish 
prison  seventy- five  years  ago;  and  slavery  in  the  mines 


PRESBYTERIANISM  IN  NEW  ORLEANS.  181 

of  Mexico  seemed  to  be  the  inevitable  result  of  them. 
But  where  duty  to  God  is  concerned,  the  apparent  result 
is  often  vastly  different  from  the  actual  result.  Could 
he  have  looked  through  the  bars  of  his  prison  on  tlie 
Held  of  religious  activity,  of  which  that  prison  was  de- 
stined to  be  the  center — could  his  eye  have  pierced  the 
veil  of  three-quarters  of  a  century,  he  would  have  seen 
this  wide  territory  covered  with  a  goodly  family  of  five 
Synods,  twenty  Presbyteries,  and  nearly  six  hundred 
churches ;  together  with  all  the  multiform  kinds  of 
moral,  benevolent,  and  religious  enterprises  which  they 
represent  or  sustain. 

The  history  of  the  world  does  not  often  produce,  in 
such  a  limited  period,  and  from  such  a  desj^ised  begin- 
ning, a  more  glorious  result. 

Yet  this  was  not  merely  the  work  of  one  man,  nor  is 
it  the  mere  development  of  any  one  line  or  form  of  effort. 
Many  a  worker  wrought  in  that  field — each  in  his  own 
sphere,  at  his  own  work,  in  his  own  way — known  or  un- 
known, scattered  or  united,  organized  or  unorganized 
— but  each  and  all  for  the  Lord.  And  by  the  myste- 
rious control  of  an  Almighty  hand,  all  things,  whether 
good  or  evil,  or  the  work  of  friend  or  foe,  were  ruled 
and  overruled,  and  made  to  combine  and  co-operate  to 
accomplish  his  gracious  purpose. 

The  future  may  have  great  things  in  store  for  us,  but- 
it  can  teach  us  no  better  than  the  past  has  taught  us, 
that  great  lesson,  that  fidelity  to  God  is  not  lost — 
neither  is  it  to  be  held  as  of  little  moment,  though  it  be 
obscure  and  seemingly  uninfluential.  However  trivial 
it  may  seem,  each  particular  and  individual  movement 
must  live  till  it  obeys  the  laAvs  of  a  divine  attraction,  and 
combines  with  a  greater,  which  shall  lead  it  on  till  it 
co-operate  even  with  the  greatest. 

We  may  be  as  insignificant  as  the  raindrop  on  the 


182  PEESBYTERIANISM  IN  NEW  ORLEANS. 

mountain  side ;  yet  that  drop  must  not  perish  till  it 
blends  with  others,  and  compels  the  rivulet  to  spring 
into  being.  And  the  rivulets  can  find  no  rest,  until  they 
make  to  bound  forth  into  life  the  growing  river,  wealth- 
bearing  and  life-producing.  Nor  can  the  rivers  return  or 
cease,  till  they  have  mingled  their  mighty  burdens  on 
the  bosom  of  the  deep.  And  so  the  act  of  fidelity  and 
the  prayer  of  faith ;  the  godly  life  and  the  preached 
word;  prayer-meetings  aud  Sunday-schools  will  join 
and  conjoin,  and  operate  and  co-operate,  increase  and 
multiply,  overleap  all  restraints,  and  in  their  ebb  and 
flow  bear  down  and  continue  to  bear  down  all  opposing 
forces.  -Out  of  tlie  feeble  will  come  the  strong,  and  from 
the  bosom  of  patience  shall  leap  forth  might ;  till  the 
grace  of  God  shall  sweep  over  society  like  the  tides 
of  the  ocean  in  their  strength ;  till  the  knowledge  of 
God  shall  fill  and  cover  the  earth ;  till  the  time  shall 
come,  when  rejoicing  angels  shall  declare,"  It  isfinished,'' 
"The  kingdoms  of  this  world  have  become  the  empire 
of  our  God." 

Dr.  T.  R.  Markham,  and  Rev.  R.  Q.  Mallard  delivered 
addresses  admirably  illustrating  the  aggressive  move- 
ment of  the  Church,  through  the  two  arms  of  her  ser- 
vice, the  pastorship,  and  the  pulpit;  the  one  urging 
home  the  Gospel  to  the  heart  of  the  individual,  in  per- 
sonal intercourse;  the  other,  in  the  stated  systematic 
presentation  of  truth  to  the  masses. 

The  audience  then  rose  and  sung 

"All  hail  tlie  power  of  Jesus'  name." 

The  benediction  was  then  pronounced  by  Rev.  W. 
Flinn. 


TEXAS. 


If  you  look  at  the  map,  you  will  see  that  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico  is  somewhat  in  the  shape  of  a  horse-shoe.  Its 
opening  is  defended  and  adorned  by  the  island  of  Cuba. 
Commencing  at  Cape  Florida,  we  find  that  its  capes  and 
harbors  are  very  numerous,  and  are  sufficient  for  the 
vast  commerce  of  this  great  inland  sea,  and  the  rich 
territories  that  border  it.  They  are  Tampa,  Apalachee, 
Mobile,  New  Orleans,  Atchafalaya,  Calcasieu,  Sabine, 
Galveston,  Brazos  River,  Matagorda,  Corpus  Christi, 
Brazos  Santiago,  Tehuantepec,  Campeachy,  and  Sisal. 

At  the  toe  of  this  great  slioe  lies  the  State  of  Texas, 
reaching  for  a  distance  of  four  hundred  miles  along  the 
coast,  and  embracing  in  its  entire  boundaries  two  hun- 
dred and  thirty-seven  thousand  square  miles,  or  about 
one  hundred  and  fifty  millions  of  acres.  It  is  four  times 
as  large  as  Virginia.  The  country  along  the  coast  is  a 
level  prairie ;  but  as  you  pass  to  the  interior,  the  surface 
gradually  rises  and  becomes  more  uneven;  and  still 
further  inland,  it  becomes  hilly  and  mountainous. 
After  crossing  an  extensive  belt  of  timber,  and  reaching 
more  than  a  hundred  miles  from  the  coast,  you  find  the 
nigh  rolling  prairies,  composed  of  the  richest  soil  in  the 
world,  covered  with  musquit-grass,  and  having  along 
the  streams  and  valleys  sufficient  timber  for  all  needful 
purposes. 

Texas  is  what  is  called"  an  alluvial  country,  and  bears 
strong  evidence  of  having  been  once  under  water.    Very 


184  TEXAS. 

little  rock  is  found,  except  in  the  northern  part.  It 
possesses  every  variety  of  climate  and  surface,  and  there 
is  nothing  which  can  contribute  to  the  comfort  and 
wants  of  man  which  will  not  grow  here.  Oranges  and 
sugar-cane  flourish  in  the  south ;  cotton  in  the  middle 
regions ;  wheat  in  the  north ;  and  potatoes,  corn  and 
vegetables  flourish  everywhere;  while  countless  numbers 
of  cattle,  horses,  sheep,  and  hogs  can  be  reared  in  any 
part  of  the  State.  In  fact,  there  is  no  country  on  the 
continent  better  suited  to  become  the  abode  of  millions 
of  contented  and  happy  people.  It  is  a  world  in  itself, 
where  nature  teems  with  all  kind  of  riches,  and  holds 
out  all  kind  of  attractions  to  people  of  other  States  to 
come  and  find  homes  for  themselves  and  their  children. 
Our  only  wonder  is,  that  so  boundless  a  country  has 
remained  so  long  without  being  filled  up  with  civilized 
peoj^le. 

IJ^DIANS   IN"  TEXAS. 

The  Indians,  from  their  mode  of  living,  and  the  con- 
tinual wars  among  their  different  tribes,  were  but  thinly 
scattered  over  the  immense  country  lying  between  the 
Eio  Grande  and  Eed  River.  The  Lipans  and  the  Caran- 
kaws  lived  along  the  lower  Eio  Grande  and  the  Colorado 
and  Brazos.  They  subsisted  mainly  upon  fish.  The 
next  tribe,  going  east,  was  the  Cenis,  inhabiting  Buffalo 
Bayou,  the  San  Jacinto  Valley,  and  the  Trinity  Eiver. 
On  the  banks  of  the  Trinity  their  villages  were  large 
and  numerous.  Their  habitations  were  like  bee-hives, 
and  some  of  them  were  forty  feet  high.  As  they  de- 
voted much  time  to  raising  corn,  they  were  compara- 
tively wealthy.  They  traded  with  the  Spaniards  of  New 
Mexico,  from  whom  they  procured  horses,  money,  spurs, 
and  clothing.  The  next  tribe  east  were  the  Nassoriis, 
living  between  tlie  Cenis  and  the  Sabine  Eiver.     These 


TEXAS.  185 

four  tribes,  two  ceuturics.ago,  formed  the  original  iiiluib- 
itants  of  Texas.  The  hmding  of  the  colony  of  La  Salle 
Avas  to  them  a  new  and  wonderful  event.  The  sight  of 
ships  and  the  sound  of  fire-arms  were  to  them  subjects 
of  awe  and  astonishment.  Living  in  the  simplicity  of 
nature,  they  were  free  from  most  of  the  diseases  and 
vices  of  European  nations.  They  were  worshipers  of 
tlie  sun,  and  full  of  the  superstitions  common  to  other 
North  American  Indians.  They  had  their  rain-makers, 
their  game-finders,  and  their  witches.  Living  in  a  mild 
climate,  and  among  prairies  covered  with  buff;ilo  and 
game  of  all  kinds,  and  near  streams  and  bays  abounding 
in  fish,  they  obtained  their  living  with  but  little  effort. 
They  were  contented  and  as  free  as  people  ever  can  be- 
come who  know  nothing  of  the  usages  of  civilized  life. 
Early  and  vigorous  efforts  were  made  by  Catholic 
missionaries  to  convert  them  to  Christianity.  Estab- 
lishments were  formed  called  presidios  or  missions. 
Buildings  were  erected  round  a  square,  and  consisted 
of  a  church,  storehouses,  dwellings  for  priests,  officers, 
and  soldiers.  Huts  were  erected  at  a  short  distance  for 
the  converted  Indians.  The  ruins  of  many  of  these  old 
presidios  remain  to  this  day.  But  the  Indians  are  now 
all  gone,  and  none  are  found  except  on  the  northern 
and  western  frontiers  of  the  State.  One  race  has  dis- 
appeared, and  a  new  one  is  fast  filling  its  place.  The 
weak  have  yielded  to  the  strong — the  savage  to  the 
civilized  ;  and  before  many  years  roll  round,  the  only 
record  of  once  powerful  Indian  tribes  will  be  the  beau- 
tiful names  which  still  cling  to  some  of  our  rivers  and 
our  mountains. 

THE   ERENCH   li^   TEXAS. 

The  first  Europeans  who  visited  Texas  were  led  here 
by  La  Salle,  who  landed  near  the  entrance  of  Mata- 


186  TEXAS. 

gorda  Bay,  on  February  18,  1685.  La  Salle  was  a  brave 
and  gallant  knight  under  Louis  XIV.,  King  of  France. 
Born  of  a  good  family,  and  intended  for  the  priesthood 
in  the  Catholic  Church,  he  had  received  a  finished  edu- 
cation. He  was  a  man  of  great  talents,  of  an  enter- 
prising spirit,  and  possessed  firmness  of  mind  which 
danger  and  adversity  seemed  only  to  strengthen.  He 
kept  his  own  secrets,  relied  upon  his  own  genius,  and 
bore  without  a  murmur  whatever  ills  befell  him. 

A  squadron  of  four  vessels  was  provided  and  fur- 
nished by  the  king,  and  the  whole  number  of  persons 
embarked  in  the  enterprise,  was  three  hundred.  The 
squadron  first  touched  land  near  Sabine  Bay,  but  mak- 
ing no  discoveries,  and  being  unable  to  get  any  in- 
formation from  the  Indians,  they  proceeded  westward, 
and  sailing  through  Pass  Cavallo,  entered  the  Bay  of 
St.  Bernard,  since  known  by  its  present  name.  One  of 
the  vessels  was  wrecked  in  attempting  to  land.  The 
others  landed  in  safety,  and  a  camp  was  formed  on 
the  west  side  near  the  entrance  of  the  Bay.  The  little 
colony  was  greatly  refreshed  by  an  abundance  of  game 
and  fish.  They  were  charmed  with  the  country.  The 
herds  of  buffalo  and  deer  that  were  seen  grazing  on  the 
prairies,  the  innumerable  wild  flowers  that  covered  the 
earth,  and  the  birds  that  warbled  in  the  trees,  led 
them  to  believe  that  they  had  found  an  earthly  para- 
dise. 

But  these  bright  prospects  were  soon  clouded. 
Troubles  arose  with  the  Indians.  Their  chief  supply 
of  provisions  was  lost.  Sickness  began  to  thin  their 
numbers.  Disagreements  arose  between  La  Salle  and 
the  leading  men  of  the  colony.  A  captain  of  one  of 
the  vessels  set  sail  for  France,  carrying  away  most  of 
the  ammunition.  Finally,  the  settlement  was  aban- 
doned, and  a  new  location  was  selected  on  the  Lavaca 


TEXAS.  187 

River,  and  a  fort  was  there  erected,  and  named  St.  Louis, 
in  honor  of  the  king. 

La  Salle,  the  leading  spirit  of  this  infant  colony, 
being  of  an  ad  venturous  disposition,  and  being  intensely 
desirous  of  ascertaining  the  exact  mouth  of  the  great 
Mississippi  River,  started  on  the  business  of  exploring 
the  vast  regions  between  Texas  and  Illinois;  aiid  after 
enduring  incredible  hardships,  and  meeting  with  many 
wild  and  romantic  adventures,  was  finally  murdered  by 
one  of  his  own  men.  The  Indians,  on  hearing  of  La 
Salle's  death,  attacked  Fort  St.  Louis,  and  killed  or 
scattered  all  the  colonists.  This  was  the  end  of  the 
first  European  colony  in  Texas. 

THE   FIRST   WHITE   MAN"    LOST   IN   TEXAS. 

In  1720,  a  colony  of  Europeans  entered  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico,  with  the  view  of  settling  in  Louisiana.  Among 
them  was  M.  de  Belisle,  a  gentleman  of  distinction. 
The  wind  and  current  carried  the  vessel  on  which  he 
was  sailing  into  Matagorda  Bay.  A  boat  was  sent 
ashore  for  water,  and  Belisle,  with  four  others,  went  in 
it.  As  the  boat  had  to  make  several  trips  to  and  from 
the  ship  during  the  day,  these  men  concluded  to  remain 
on  shore  and  go  out  hunting.  But,  overstaying  their 
time,  the  boat  made  the  last  trip,  and  the  captain,  be- 
coming impatient,  weighed  anchor  and  sailed  from  the 
Bay.  Being  thus  left  alone  in  an  unknoAvn  country, 
the  hunters  traveled  westward  along  the  coast  for 
several  days,  living  upon  herbs  and  insects.  Belisle  had 
brought  a  young  dog  with  him  from  the  vessel.  This 
he  gave  up  to  one  of  the  men  to  be  killed  for  food. 
The  man  was  so  weak  with  hunger  that  he  was  un- 
able to  kill  him,  and  the  dog  escaped  and  disappeared. 
The  four  companions  of  Belisle  died  of  starvation  and 
despair  before  his  eyes;  and  for  some  days  after,  he 


188  TEXAS. 

continued  to  live  on  worms  and  insects,  until  at  last 
the  dog  returned  with  an  opossum  which  he  had  killed. 
Shortly  after  this,  the  dog  was  wounded  by  a  wild 
beast,  and  he  was  compelled  to  kill  him.  Being  thus 
left  aloue,  he  turned  from  the  west,  and  bent  his 
course  to  the  interior,  in  sea.di  of  men.  He  found 
footsteps,  and  followed  them  to  a  river,  on  the  opposite 
side  of  which  he  saw  some  Indians  engaged  in  drying 
meat.  They  soon  discovered  him,  caught  him,  stripped 
him,  and  divided  his  clothes  among  them.  They  then 
took  him  to  their  village,  and  gaye  him  to  an  old 
squaw,  w^ho  treated  him  so  kindly,  that  he  soon  re- 
covered his  strength.  He  learned  their  language,  be- 
came a  warrior,  and  rose  to  distinction  among  them. 

After  some  time,  a  party  of  strange  Indians  visited 
the  tribe  where  he  was  a  captive,  and,  seeing  him,  re- 
marked that  they  had  also  in  their  nation  some  men 
of  the  same  color.  This  remark  excited  Bel  isle's  feel- 
ings, and  he  determined  to  profit  by  it.  He  then  made 
some  ink  of  soot,  and  wrote  on  a  piece  of  paper  which 
he  had  secretly  saved,  an  account  of  his  condition.  One 
of  the  strange  Indians  secretly  agreed  to  carry  it  to  the 
white  people  at  Katchitoches.  He  performed  his  prom- 
ise, delivered  the  paper  to  Captain  St.  Denis,  com- 
mandant of  that  post,  who  wept  on  learning  the  fate  of 
his  white  brother.  As  St.  Denis  was  a  great  friend  of 
the  Indians,  and  a  favorite  with  them,  ten  of  their 
number  volunteered  to  go  after  Belisle,  and  return  in 
two  moons.  They  were  furnished  with  horses,  and  a 
horse,  arms,  and  clothing  for  the  prisoner.  They 
reached  the  village,  and  fired  off  their  guns,  which 
overawed  the  Indians.  Then  delivering  a  letter  from 
St.  Denis  to  Belisle,  they  helped  him  to  mount  his 
horse'  and  the  whole  party  galloped  away,  and  reached 
Natchitoches  in  safety.    From  there  Belisle  found  his 


TEXAS.  189 

way  to  the  infant  city  of  New  Orleans,  and  became 
Major  General  of  the  Marine  of  Louisiana. 

THE   SPANIARDS   IN   TEXAS. 

Early  in  1G8G,  the  Spaniards,  who  at  this  time  held 
possession  of  Mexico,  hearing  of  the  effort  of  the  French, 
under  La  Salle,  to  make  settlements  in  Texas,  deter- 
mined on  driving  them  out  of  the  country.  An  expe- 
dition of  one  hundred  men  left  the  Spanish  settlement 
of  Monclava  in  the  spring  of  1G89.  But  on  arriving  at 
Fort  St.  Louis,  on  the  Lavaca,  they  found  it  abandoned. 
Going  into  the  country,  they  found  two  of  the  French 
colonists  among  the  Cenis  Lidians,  whom  they  took 
prisoners,  and  sent  to  Mexico,  and  there  condemned  to 
work  in  the  mines.  Keturning  to  Fort  St.  Louis,  they 
there  established  the  Mission  of  San  Francisco;  and 
collecting  some  priests  and  friars,  commenced  their 
efforts  to  convert  the  Lidians.  The  king  of  Spain  now 
determined  to  recover  the  possession  of  all  Texas  and 
Coahuila.  A  governor  of  the  country  was  accordingly 
appointed ;  soldiers  and  priests  were  sent  out  to  different 
points,  to  establish  military  posts  and  missions.  They 
took  with  them  cattle,  and  seeds  for  planting.  They 
formed  settlements  on  tlie  Red  River,  the  Neches,  and 
the  Guadalupe.  But  in  a  short  time,  all  these  infant 
colonies,  and  also  that  of  Fort  St.  Louis,  began  to  de- 
cline. The  Indians  were  hostile,  the  crops  failed,  and 
the  cattle  died.  So  that  in  1693,  they  were  all  aban- 
doned, and  Texas  was  once  more  without  any  European 
settlers. 

Not  much  was  done  by  the  Spaniards  after  this  to 
settle  Texas,  until  the  year  1715.  From  tliis  year  may 
be  dated  its  permanent  occupation  by  Spain.  They  now 
commenced  in  good  earnest  to  found  colonies,  to  estab- 
lish missions,  and  by  arms,  agriculture  and  arts,  to  ex- 


190  TEXAS. 

tend  and  establish  their  influence  and  laws  over  the 
whole  country.  But  notwithstanding  all  their  efforts 
and  sacrifices,  the  Government  was  not  prosperous;  and 
in  the  year  1745,  the  entire  Spanish  population  in  Texas 
did  not  exceed  fifteen  hundred,  with  perhaps  an  equal 
number  of  converted  Indians.  In  1758,  a  sad  scene 
occurred  at  San  Saba.  The  Indians,  in  large  numbers, 
assaulted  the  mission,  and  murdered  priests,  soldiers, 
and  Indian  converts,  leaving  not  one  alive  to  tell  the 
tale.  This  fearful  butchery  caused  the  Spanish  missions 
in  Texas  everywhere  to  decline.  They  never  recovered 
from  the  blow. 

During  the  American  Revolution,  the  Spanish  pos- 
sessions of  Mexico  and  Texas  remained  in  quiet.  Texas 
was  safe  from  danger.  Her  harbors  were  almost  un- 
known ;  her  property  offered  no  temptation  to  pillage, 
and  her  scattered  population  could  aflbrd  no  recruits. 
The  Spanish  settlement  at  Xatchez,  however,  had  opened 
up  a  trade  with  Texas  through  Nacogdoches.  This  road 
had  become  familiar  to  many  besides  the  Spaniards. 
Traders,  on  their  return,  would  make  known  to  the 
Americans  in  and  around  Natchez,  the  advantages  of 
trade  in  Texas,  the  surpassing  beauty  and  richness  of 
the  country,  the  abundance  of  the  game,  and  a  thousand 
other  attractions  to  adventurers.  Thus  the  tide  of  travel 
and  of  trade  began  to  set  in  the  direction  of  this  new 
country  about  the  beginning  of  the  present  century. 
The  town  of  Nacogdoches  soon  became  a  place'  of  much 
importance.  Many  persons  of  wealth  and  education 
emigrated  from  Louisiana  to  that  place.  The  old  mis- 
sionary station  became  a  town.  An  arsenal,  barrat3ks, 
and  other  substantial  buildings  soon  made  their  appear- 
ance— some  of  which  are  still  standing. 

Although  the  Spaniards  held  the  country  for  upwards 
of  one  hundred  and  fifty  years,  yet  little  now  exists  in 


TEXAS.  191 

Texas  to  remind  us  of  their  rule  here,  excepting  the 
names  which  they  gave  to  the  principal  towns  and 
rivers.     Most  of  these  names  are  still  retained. 

AMERICANS   IN   TEXAS. 

A  trader,  called  Philip  Nolan,  engaged  in  traffic  be- 
tween Natchez  (Mississippi)  and  San  Antonio,  about 
the  year  1785.  In  October,  1800,  he  started  on  one  of 
his  expeditions  into  Texiis,  with  a  company  of  about 
twenty  men.  Among  them  was  Ellis  P.  Bean,  a  young 
man  of  seventeen  years  of  age,  whose  romantic  charac- 
ter and  strange  adventures  entitle  him  to  a  more  ex- 
tended notice.  Nolan  and  his  company,  in  order  to 
avoid  attracting  public  attention,  took  a  new  route,  after 
crossing  the  Mississippi  at  Natchez.  Occasionally  they 
halted  to  kill  game  and  refresh  themselves.  Before 
reaching  Red  River,  three  of  them  strayed  off,  got  lost, 
but  afterwards  found  their  way  back  to  Natchez.  Nolan 
and  his  remaining  men  passed  around  the  head  of  Lake 
Bistineau,  and  crossing  Red  River,  came  to  a  Caddo 
village,  where  they  obtained  some  fine  horses.  In  ten 
days  they  crossed  the  Trinity,  and  immediately  entered 
upon  an  immense  rolling  prairie,  through  which  they 
advanced,  till  they  came  to  a  spring,  which  they  named 
the  Painted  SpriJig.  At  the  head  of  this  spring  stood 
a  rock,  painted  by  the  Indians,  to  commemorate  a  treaty 
which  had  once  been  made  there. 

In  the  vast  prairie  around  them  they  could  find  no 
fuel  with  which  to  cook  their  food.  The  buffalo,  once 
so  numerous  here,  had  all  disappeared,  and  they  were 
compelled  to  live  for  nine  days  on  the  flesh  of  mustang 
horses.  By  this  time  they  reached  the  Brazos,  where 
they  found  plenty  of  deer,  elk,  and  "wild  horses  by 
thousands."  Here  they  built  an  enclosure,  and  caught 
and  penned  three  hundred  head  of  mustangs.     At  this 


192  TEXAS. 

place,  they  were  visited  by  two  hundred  Camanche  In- 
dians, with  whom  they  went  on  a  visit  to  the  great  chief 
Necoroco,  on  the  south  bank  of  Eed  Eiver,  where  they 
remained  a  month,  making  many  friends,  and  gaining 
much  information.  They  returned  at  length  to  their 
old  camp,  accompanied  by  an  escort  of  the  natives,  who 
managed  to  steal  eleven  of  their  best  American  horses. 

The  company  at  this  time  consisted  of  Captain  Nolan, 
five  Spaniards,  eleven  Americans,  and  one  negro.  As 
they  could  do  nothing  without  their  horses,  some  six  of 
the  company  volunteered  to  go  after  them.  They  went 
on  foot,  and  after  a  march  of  nine  days  found  four  of 
the  horses,  under  the  care  of  a  few  Indians.  The  other 
horses,  the  Indians  said,  had  been  taken  on  a  buffalo- 
hunt  by  the  balance  of  their  party,  and  would  return  in 
the  evening.  They  further  stated  that  the  one  who 
stole  the  horses  was  a  one-eyed  Indian  chief.  In  the 
evening,  the  Indians  came  in,  bringing  the  horses  and 
abundance  of  meat.  The  whites  tied  the  one-eyed  chief, 
and  guarded  him  till  morning;  they  then  took  such 
provisions  as  they  wanted  for  their  journey,  let  the  In- 
dians go,  and  returned  to  their  camp  in  four  days. 

While  in  camp,  resting  themselves,  a  troop  of  one 
hundred  and  fifty  Spaniards  came  suddenly  upon  them. 
The  trampling  of  the  horses  aroused  the  Americans, 
who,  seeing  their  danger,  prepared  for  defense.  They 
had  built  a  square  in  closure  of  logs,  in  which  they  slept 
at  night.  Into  this  they  fled.  The  Spaniards  at  day- 
break commenced  their  fire,  wiiich  was  returned  from 
the  log  pen.  In  ten  minutes,  Captain  Nolan  was  killed 
by  a  ball  in  the  head.  Bean  then  took  the  command, 
and  continued  the  fight.  In  a  short  time  after,  two 
more  of  the  little  company  fell.  The  Spaniards  had 
brought  with  them  a  swivel  on  the  back  of  a  mule,  with 
which  they  fired  grape.    At  this  time,  Bean  proposed  to 


TEXAS.  193 

his  men  to  charge  on  this  piece  of  artillery,  but  the  men 
jointly  opposed  it.  It  was  next  proposed  to  retreat, 
which  was  agreed  to.  Eacli  one  filled  his  powder-horn, 
and  the  remaining  ammunition  was  placed  in  charge  of 
the  negro.  They  left  the  inclosure,  and  gained  a  small 
creek.  "While  here  engaged  in  fighting,  the  negro  with 
the  ammunition,  and  one  wounded  man,  stopped  and 
surrendered.  Bean  and  his  party,  though  under  a  con- 
stant fire  from  the  enemy  on  both  sides,  kept  up  the 
fight,  until  at  last  they  took  refuge  in  a  ravine,  and,  for 
a  short  time,  the  firing  ceased.  At  length  the  enemy 
began  to  close  in  upon  the  ravine,  but  were  soon  re- 
pulsed. About  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  Span- 
iards hoisted  a  white  flag,  and  an  American,  who  was 
with  the  Spaniards,  Avas  appointed  to  hold  a  parley  with 
Bean.  They  said,  all  they  desired  was,  that  the  Ameri- 
cans would  return  to  their  homes,  and  cease  to  come  any 
more  into  Texas.  The  Americans  agreed  to  this.  A 
treaty  was  made,  in  which  it  was  agreed  that  both 
parties  should  return  together  to  Nacogdoches — the 
Americans  not  to  surrender,  but  to  retain  their  arms. 

They  soon  reached  the  Trinity  River,  which  was  over- 
flowino^  its  banks.  Bean  soon  contrived  to  make  a  small 
canoe  out  of  a  dry  cotton- wood  tree,  and  managed  to 
carry  over  all  the  Spaniards,  leaving  their  arms  and  com- 
mander on  the  other  side.  He  now  proposed  to  his  men 
to  throw  the  arms  into  the  river,  start  the  commander 
over,  and  again  march  for  the  prairies.  In  this,  how- 
ever, he  was  not  seconded. 

In  a  few  days  they  all  reached  Nacogdoches,  where 
they  remained  a  month,  expecting,  according  to  promise, 
to  be  sent  home.  But  in  violation  of  the  treaty,  they 
were  all  put  in  'irons  and  sent  to  San  Antonio.  Here 
they  were  kept  in  prison  three  months.  They  were  then 
sent  to  San  Louis  Potosi,  where  they  remained  in  prison 

9 


194  TEXAS. 

for  sixteen  months.  The  prisoners  being  without 
clothes,  contrived  means  to  procure  them.  Bean  and 
Charles  King  gave  themselves  out  as  shoemakers,  and 
were  permitted  to  work  at  their  prison  doors,  by  which 
means  they  earned  some  money.  Then  they  were  started 
off  to  Chihuahua.  Arriving  at  Saltillo,  they  were  treated 
with  more  kindness.  Their  irons  were  taken  off,  and 
they  were  permitted  to  walk  about  the  towai.  Here  we 
will  leave  them  for  the  present,  simply  remarking,  that 
this  battle  of  twelve  Americans  with  one  hundred  and 
fifty  mounted  Spaniards,  was  probably  the  first  which 
ever  took  place  between  these  two  nations,  and  from  it 
we  may  judge  of  the  character  of  each. 

FIRST  AMERICAN   COLONY   IIT    TEXAS. 

The  first  grant  from  the  Mexican  Government  to 
found  an  American  colony  in  Texas,  was  dated  January 
17,  1821.  This  grant  was  given  to  Moses  Austin,  a 
native  of  Connecticut,  and  the  father  of  the  distin- 
guished Colonel  Stephen  F.  Austin.  The  father  dying 
suddenly,  the  son  undertook  the  great  and  benevolent 
work  of  carrying  out  his  father's  plans.  He  accordingly 
explored  the  country  watered  by  the  Guadalupe,  Colo- 
rado, and  Brazos  Eivers,  and  laid  out  the  town  of  San 
Felipe  de  Austin,  on  the  Brazos.  The  news  of  Austin's 
colony  had  spread  over  the  western  country,  and  there 
were  many  adventurers  who  were  anxious  to  join  him ; 
so  that  the  number  of  colonists  came  on  faster  than 
provision  could  be  made  for  their  support.  The  first 
settlers  were  often  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  living  en- 
tirely on  wild  game,  and  clothing  themselves  with  skins. 
They  also  suffered  greatly  for  several  years  from  the 
Carankaw  Indians.  In  the  year  1813,  one  of  the  colon- 
ists gives  us  the  following  account  of  their  sufferings  : 

"  Those  of  us  who  have  no  families  live  with  families 


TEXAS.  195 

of  the  settlement.  A  part  of  us  are  obliged  to  go  out 
in  the  morning  to  hunt  food,  leaving  a  part  of  the  men 
behind  to  protect  the  women  and  children  from  the  In- 
dians. Game  is  now  so  scarce  that  we  often  hunt  a 
whole  day  for  a  deer  or  turkey,  and  return  at  night 
empty-handed.  It  would  make  your  heart  sick  to  see 
the  poor  little  half-naked  children,  who  have  eaten 
nothing  during  the  day,  watch  for  the  return  of  the 
hunters  at  night.  As  soon  as  they  catch  the  first 
glimpse  of  them,  they  eagerly  run  out  to  meet  them,  and 
learn  if  tliey  have  found  any  game.  If  the  hunters  re- 
turn with  a  deer  or  turkey,  the  children  are  wild  with 
delight.  But  if  they  return  without  food,  the  little 
creatures  suddenly  stop  in  their  course,  and  the  big  tears 
start  and  roll  down  their  pale  cheeks." 

These  were  hard  times  for  the  young  colony.  But 
they  were  engaged  in  a  great  and  good  work,  and  met 
and  overcame  all  difficulties  with  manly  firmness.  The 
common  dress  of  the  people  was  buckskin;  and  occa- 
sionally a  strolling  peddler  would  penetrate  into  the 
wilderness  with  a  piece  of  domestic  or  calico,  which  was 
deemed  of  as  much  elegance  as  silk  or  satin  is  among'us. 

Soon  after  the  establishment  of  Austin's  colony,  many 
other  colonies  were  founded  in  different  parts  of  the 
country.  The  settlement  at  Victoria  was  begun  in 
1825.  The  town  of  Gonzales  was  laid  ofi"  about  the  same 
time.  In  1828,  Colonel  Austin  obtained  another  con- 
tract to  colonize  three  hundred  families  on  lands  near 
the  Gulf  Texas  had  now  become  the  great  point  of  at- 
traction to  thousands  of  adventurers  from  all  parts  of 
the  United  States.  Men  of  desperate  fortunes  and  of 
roving  habits,  speculators  in  land,  broken-down  politi- 
cians^ refugees  from  justice,  as  well  as  multitudes  of  a 
better  class,  who  were  desirous  of  finding  new  homes  for 
their  growing  families,  and  fresh  lands  for  their  increas- 


196  TEXAS. 

ing  slaves,  swelled  the  tide  of  Texas  immigration.  This 
tide,  rolling  down  from  the  Xorthern  and  Western 
states,  at  last  excited  the  jealousy  of  the  Mexican  gov- 
ernment, and  finally  brought  on  a  Avar  with  Mexico, 
which  ended  in  the  independence  of  Texas. 

GALVESTOi^   ISLAND. 

From  the  discovery  of  this  island,  in  1686,  by  the 
French  under  La  Salle,  until  1816,  it  remained  un- 
settled. A  few^  roving  Indians  occasionally  resorted  to 
the  western  end  of  the  island  for  the  purpose  of  fishing, 
but  there  were  no  human  habitations  on  it.  As  late  as 
1816,  it  was  covered  with  a  long,  green  grass,  on  which 
fed  herds  of  deer.  It  also  abounded  in  serpents,  and 
was  hence  called  by  the  pirates  of  the  Gulf,  Sncike 
Island.  In  1816,  Don  Louis  Aury,  commodore  of  the 
fleet  of  the  Republics  of  Mexico,  Venezuela,  La  Plata, 
and  New  Granada,  consisting  of  fifteen  small  vessels, 
was  chosen  governor  of  the  province  of  Texas  and  Gal- 
veston Island.  He  immediately  set  out  upon  a  cruise 
against  Spanish  commerce,  and  soon  swept  from  the 
Gulf  the  vessels  of  the  mother  country.  The  rich  prizes 
brought  into  Galveston  soon  enabled  Aury  and  his  little 
garrison  to  live  handsomely.  African  slaves  were  also 
smuggled  into  the  place,  and  sold  at  about  one  hundred 
and  fifty  dollars  apiece,  and  sent  across  the  country  into 
Louisiana.  In  1817,  it  fell  into  the  possession  of  the 
celebrated  Lafitte,  who  had  for  many  years  been  the 
terror  of  the  Gulf — a  man  of  great  accomplishments  and 
of  many  crimes — who,  when  the  war  between  England 
and  the  United  States  broke  out  in  1812,  had  his  head- 
quarters at  Barataria,  in  Louisiana,  and  after  refusing  to 
join  the  British,  offered  his  services  to  the  American 
Government,  was  pardoned  by  the  Legislature  of  Louisi- 


TEXAS.  197 

ana,  and  fought  bravely  at  the  battle  of  New  Orleans 
under  General  Jackson. 

After  the  battle  of  New  Orleans,  Lafitte  returned  to 
his  former  occupation,  and  he  and  his  followers  on  Gal- 
veston Island  numbered  nearly  a  thousand  men.  They 
were  of  all  nations  and  languages,  and  though  pretend- 
ing to  be  engaged,  under  tlieir  distinguished  leader,  as 
privateers,  were  actually  nothing  but  pirates.  Lafitte 
was  a  man  of  handsome  person,  winning  manners,  gen- 
erous disposition,  and  had  a  wonderful  influence  over 
his  men.  He  built  his  town  on  the  ruins  of  Aury's 
village,  erected  a  dwelling  called  the  red  house,  and  con- 
structed a  fort,  a  small  arsenal  and  dock-yard.  From 
New  Orleans  he  was  supplied  with  building  materials, 
provisions,  and  many  of  the  luxuries  of  life.  A  "Yankee  " 
boarding-house  sprung  up,  and  Galveston  soon  became 
a  place  of  many  attractions  to  the  wild  free-booters  of 
the  Gulf.  But,  in  1820,  Lafitte  and  his  men  committed 
some  acts  which  brought  on  him  the  displeasure  of  the 
United  Stales  Government,  who  sent  an  armed  vessel 
and  broke  up  his  establishment.  This  prince  of  pirates 
entertained  the  captain  of  the  American  vessel  with 
great  hospitality  at  the  red  house.  He  then  assem.bled 
his  followers,  made  them  an  address,  supplied  them 
Avith  money,  advised  them  to  disperse,  and  bidding  the 
American  officer  farewell,  sailed  out  of  the  bay,  and 
left  Galveston  forever. 

Galveston,  in  1822,  was  again  desolate,  and  for  some 
years  it  was  only  visited  occasionally  by  sailors  in  search 
of  Lafitte's  hidden  treasures.  1\\  1836,  the  eastern  end 
of  the  Island  was  occupied  by  some  Texas  troops  under 
Colonel  Morgan,  who  had  charge  of  some  Mexican 
prisoners.  Two  years  after  this,  when  Texas  had  estab- 
lished its  independence,  and  crowds  of  strangers  com- 
menced coming  into  the  country,  the  town  began  to 


198  TEXAS. 

rise  ill  importance.  Comnierce  had  sought  out  the 
harbor  as  the  best  in  the  young  Republic,  and  respon- 
sible merchants  began  to  make  it  their  permanent  abode. 
In  1838,  vessels  were  arriying  and  departing  daily,  and 
the  harbor  presented  the  appearance  of  an  Atlantic  port. 
In  the  first  quarter  of  the  year  1840,  ninety-two  vessels 
arrived  at  the  port  of  Galveston. 

THE   FALL   OF  THE   ALAMO. 

In  1836,  Santa  Anna,  who  was  at  that  time  President 
of  Mexico,  determined  to  invade  Texas,  and  either  drive 
the  Americans  out  of  the  country,  or  crush  out  the 
spirit  of  independence  which  had  broken  out  among 
them.  Accordingly  he  set  out  for  the  Eio  Grande  on 
the  1st  of  February  of  that  year,  at  the  head  of  seven 
thousand  troops,  and  on  the  27th  of  the  same  month, 
he  marched  into  the  city  of  San  Antonio.  The  few 
Texas  soldiers  who  were  stationed  in  that  city  retired 
across  the  river  in  good  order,  and  took  refuge  in  the 
Alamo.  The  Alamo,  though  strong,  Avas  not  properly 
a  fort,  but  a  presidio  or  mission.  It  had  been  standing 
for  nearly  one  hundred  and  fifty  years,  and  had  been 
the  scene  of  many  strange  and  interesting  events.  Here 
Colonel  Travis,  with  his  small  force  of  not  more  than 
one  hundred  and  fifty  men,  determined  to  make  a  stand, 
and  conquer  or  die.  He  had  only  eight  cannon,  and 
was  greatly  deficient  in  provisions  and  ammunition. 
When  the  enemy  first  appeared  before  the  place,  he  had 
only  ninety  bushels  of  corn  and  thirty  head  of  cattle. 
But  the  watch-word  of  the  little  band  of  heroes  was, 
"  Victory  or  death ! "  Santa  Anna  immediately  de- 
manded a  surrender,  which  was  answered  by  a  shot  from 
the  fort.  The  enemy  then  hoisted  the  red  flag,  and 
commenced  the  attack.  They  erected  a  number  of  bat- 
teries, and  for  several  days  kept  up  a  constant  skirmish- 


TEX.VS.  199 

ing.  Travis  and  his  little  band  frequently  sallied  out 
and  met  their  assailants,  whom  they  drove  back  with 
considerable  loss.  On  the  1st  of  March,  thirty-two  gal- 
lant men,  from  Gonzales,  forced  their  way  into  the  Ala- 
mo, thus  swelling  the  force  of  Travis  to  one  hundred 
and  eighty-eight.  For  several  succeeding  days  the  con- 
test was  kept  up  with  spirit  on  both  sides,  the  Texans 
firing  but  seldom,  in  order  to  save  their  ammunition ; 
and  the  Mexicans  advancing  their  batteries  nearer  and 
nearer  to  the  walls.  Travis  succeeded  in  sending  out, 
through  the  enemy's  lines,  a  last  appeal  to  his  country 
for  help  in  this  his  terrible  extremity,  setting  forth 
his  position,  and  stating  that  if  not  soon  reinforced,  he 
and  his  men  had  solemnly  determined  to  perish  in  the 
struggle.  By  the  same  courier  he  wrote  to  a  friend  in 
Washington  County  the  following  affecting  message: 
"  Take  care  of  my  little  boy.  If  the  country  is  saved, 
I  may  make  him  a  fortune.  But  if  all  is  lost,  and  I 
shall  perish,  I  Avill  leave  him  nothing  but  the  proud  rec- 
ollection that  he  is  the  son  of  a  man  wlio  died  for  his 
country." 

Thus  for  one  long  week  did  this  little  band  of  heroes 
defend  themselves  against  the  overwhelming  force  of  the 
enemy,  until  they  were  completely  worn  down  by  con- 
stant watching  and  fighting.  On  Sunday  morning,  the 
Cth  of  March,  Santa  Anna  determined  to  take  tlie  place 
by  storm,  and  the  Alamo  was  completely  surrounded  by 
the  whole  Mexican  army.  The  infantry  was  placed  in 
a  circle  nearest  the  fort,  and  the  cavalry  around  them, 
so  that  not  a  single  straggler  might  escape.  At  a  given 
signal,  tlie  whole  host  advanced  rapidly,  under  a  tre- 
mendous fi"re  from  the  Texans.  Just  at  daylight,  ladders 
were  placed  against  the  walls,  and  the  soldiers  began  to 
climb  up.  But  they  were  hurled  down  by  the  brave 
defenders  within.    Again  the  charge  was  sounded,  and  a 


200  TEXAS. 

second  effort  made  to  reach  tlie  top  of  the  wall ;  but 
again  the  assailants  were  beaten  back.  For  a  few  min- 
utes there  was  a  pause.  A  third  attempt  was  made  with 
more  success.  Some  reached  the  top  of  the  wall,  wavered 
and  fell;  but  their  places  were  supplied  by  hundreds 
pressing  up  behind  them  on  every  ladder.  At  last,  cut 
down,  killed  and  wounded,  the  Texan  defenders  began 
to  give  way.  Instantly  the  fort  was  filled  with  hundreds 
of  infuriated  murderers.  The  survivors  within  the  walls 
still  continued  the  battle.  They  clubbed  their  guns, 
and  with  shouts  and  yells  of  defiance,  fought  from  wall 
to  wall,  from  room  to  room.  Some  few  cried  for  quarter, 
but  no  quarter  was  given.  Travis  and  Crockett  fell  with 
piles  of  dead  Mexicans  around  them.  Major  Evans,  in 
attempting  to  set  fire  to  the  magazine,  was  shot  down. 
Colonel  Bowie,  who  was  sick  in  his  bed,  was  murdered 
and  his  body  mangled.  Major  Dickinson,  in  attempting 
to  leap  from  the  wall  with  his  child  tied  on  his  back, 
was  instantly  killed.  Thus,  one  by  one  those  noble 
heroes  sold  their  lives;  and  by  sunrise  on  that  Sabbath 
morn,  every  one  had  perished,  and  all  was  still.  But 
around  them  lay  the  dead  bodies  of  over  five  hundred 
Mexicans,  with  an  equal  number  of  w^ounded. 

The  only  survivors  of  this  terrible  conflict  were  Mrs. 
Dickinson,  her  child,  a  negro  servant  of  Colonel  Travis, 
and  two  Mexican  women.  The  bodies  of  the  Texans 
were  stripped,  mutilated,  and  then  thrown  into  heaps 
and  burnt. 

As  not  one  of  all  the  defenders  of  the  Alamo  escaped, 
we  shall  never  know  the  full  particulars  of  that  desper- 
ate struggle. 

About  a  year  after,  their  bones  and  ashes  were  col- 
lected, placed  in  a  coffin,  and  buried  with  due  solemnity. 
A  small  monument  was  made  from  the  stones  of  the 
fortress  in  1841,  was  purchased  by  the  State,  and  now 


TEXAS,  201 

stands  in  the  Capitol  at  Austin.  But  the  most  lasting 
monument  of  the  heroes  of  the  Alamo  is  found  in  the 
hearts  of  their  countrymen,  who  will  cherish  their 
memory,  and  tell  each  succeeding  generation  the  tale 
of  their  sufferings,  their  endurance,  and  their  heroic  end. 

They  fell  unnoticed,  but  undying — 

The  very  gales  their  names  seem  sighing". 

CAPTURE  AND   SLAUGHTER   OF  FANKIN'S   MEJq-  AT 
GOLIAD. 

The  news  of  the  fall  of  the  Alamo  and  the  entire 
destruction  of  its  brave  defenders  soon  spread  through- 
out Texas.  It  now  became  necessary  that  the  army  of 
the  young  republic  should  retreat  before  the  advance 
of  the  larger  force  under  Santa  Anna,  and  make  a  stand 
against  him  in  the  eastern  part  of  the  country.  Ac- 
cordingly, General  Houston,  who  was  at  the  time  at 
Gonzales,  issued  orders  that  the  scattered  troops  should 
fall  back  and  unite  at  some  more  favorable  place.  In 
this  retreat  the  two  armies  had  frequent  skirmishes,  in 
some  of  which  the  Texan s  gained  signal  advantages. 

Colonel  Fannin,  who  was  stationed  at  Goliad  with 
three  hundred  men,  began  his  retreat.  Thinking  that 
the  enemy  would  not  pursue  him,  he  was  not  suflScient- 
ly  on  his  guard,  and  was  overtaken  at  the  Coleta  Creek, 
about  thirty  miles  east  of  Goliad,  on  the  20th  of  March. 
He  and  his  men  were  in  an  open  prairie,  and  the  infant- 
ry and  cavalry  of  the  enemy  were  concealed  in  the  tim- 
ber near  the  creek.  The  enemy's  cavalry,  coming  up 
within  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  dismounted,  and  began  to 
advance  and  fire.  Fannin  ordered  his  men  to  reserve 
their  fire  and  to  lie  down  in  the  grass.  The  Mexicans 
having  now  come  within  one  hundred  yards,  the  Texans 
opened  a  fire  of  rifles,  muskets,  and  artillery.  Fannin 
here  received  a  flesh  wound  in  the  les^. 


202  TEXAS. 

While  thus  engaged  with  the  Mexican  cavah\y  on  their 
right  flank,  they  suddenly  discovered  the  enemy's  in- 
fantry, one  thousand  strong,  advancing  on  their  left 
and  rear,  and  concealing  themselves  in  the  long  grass. 
Whenever  they  would  rise  to  shoot,  and  show  their 
heads,  the  Texas  rifles  generally  took  them  down.  The 
battle  soon  became  general.  The  Texan s  having  no 
w^ater  to  sponge  their  cannon,  the  pieces  soon  became 
so  hot  that  they  could  not  use  them,  and  they  were 
forced  to  rely  wholly  on  their  small  arms.  With  these 
they  kept  up  the  fight  from  one  o'clock  until  sundown. 
At  dusk,  a  party  of  Camanche  Indians,  who  had  joined 
the  Mexicans,  were  placed  in  the  high  grass,  about  thirty 
yards  from  the  Texan s,  from  which  they  poured  a  de- 
structive fire.  But,  as  soon  as  it  became  suflSciently 
dark  for  the  Texans  to  see  the  flash  of  their  guns,  they 
seldom  flashed  twice  from  the  same  place.  A  little  after 
dark,  the  enemy  drew  off  their  troops. 

The  Texans  lost,  during  the  day,  seven  killed  and 
sixty  wounded.  The  enemy's  loss  must  have  been  five 
times  as  great. 

The  Mexicans  took  position,  during  the  night,  in  the 
skirt  of  the  woods.  Early  in  the  morning  they  renewed 
the  attack,  and,  arranging  their  whole  force  in  the  most 
imposing  manner,  surrounded  the  little  band  of  Texans 
with  overwhelming  numbers.  Fannin  and  his  officers 
now  held  a  consultation,  and  it  was  the  opinion  of  the 
majority  that  they  should  surrender.  A  white  flag  was 
raised,  and  terms  were  agreed  on.  It  was  stipulated 
that  the  Texans  should  be  received  as  prisoners  of  war, 
and  in  eight  days  should  be  sent  to  the  coast  and 
shipped  to  the  United  States.  This  agreement  was 
reduced  to  writing  in  both  the  English  and  Spanish 
languages,  read  over  two  or  three  times,  and  the  writing 
exchanged  "in  the  most  formal  and  solemn  manner." 


TEXAS.  203 

The  Texaus  immediately  stacked  their  arms  and  such 
of  them  as  were  able  to  walk,  were  marched  back  to 
Goliad  on  the  same  day.  At  Goliad  they  were  crowded 
into  the  old  church,  with  no  other  food  than  a  little 
beef,  without  bread  or  salt.  Some  other  prisoners  were 
also  brought  in  who  had  been  captured  at  other  points. 
Here  they  were  kept  until  the  27th  of  the  month,  ex- 
pecting every  day  to  leave  for  the  United  States.  The 
prisoners  were  spending  the  evening  of  the  27th  in  the 
most  pleasant  manner.  Colonel  Fannin  was  entertain- 
ing his  friends  with  the  prospect  of  a  speedy  return  to 
the  United  States;  and  some  of  the  young  men,  who 
could  perform  well  on  the  flute,  were  singing  "Home, 
Sweet  Home."  Alas !  how  little  they  knew  of  the  sad 
fate  that  was  awaiting  them.  At  seven  o'clock  at  night, 
a  courier  arrived  with  an  order  from  Santa  Anna,  that 
the  prisoners  should  all  be  shot !  Accordingly,  on  the 
next  morning  at  the  dawn  of  day,  the  Texans  were 
awakened  by  a  Mexican  officer,  who  said  he  wished 
them  to  form  a  line  that  they  might  be  counted.  The 
men  were  marched  out  in  several  divisions,  under  differ- 
ent pretexts.  Some  were  told  that  they  were  to  be 
taken  to  Copano,  to  be  sent  immediately  home ;  others, 
that  they  were  going  out  to  kill  beeves;  and  others 
again,  that  they  were  being  removed  from  the  church 
to  make  room  for  Santa  Anna  and  his  suite.  Dr. 
Shackleford,  who  had  been  reserved  jrs  a  surgeon  for  the 
wounded  Mexicans,  and  was  invited  to  the  tent  of  a 
Mexican  officer,  a  little  distance  from  the  fort,  says: 
"  In  about  half  an  hour  we  heard  the  report  of  a  volley 
of  small  arms  on  the  east  of  the  fort.  I  immediately 
inquired  the  cause  of  the  firing.  The  officer  replied 
that  he  did  not  know,  but  supposed  it  was  the  guard 
firing  off  their  guns.  In  about  fifteen  or  twenty  min- 
utes after,  another  such  volley  was  heard  directly  south 


204:  TEXAS. 

of  US.  At  the  same  time  I  could  distinguish  the  heads 
of  some  of  the  men  through  the  branches  of  some  peach- 
trees,  and  could  hear  their  screams.  It  was  then,  for 
the  first  time,  that  the  awful  conviction  seized  upon  our 
minds,  that  treachery  and  murder  had  begun  their  work. 
I  then  asked  the  officer  if  it  could  be  possible  they  were 
murdering  our  men.  He  replied  that  it  was  so,  but  that 
he  had  not  given  the  order,  neither  had  executed  it.  In 
about  an  hour  more  the  wounded  were  dragged  out 
and  butchered.  Colonel  Fannin  was  the  last  to  suffer. 
When  informed  of  his  fate,  he  met  it  like  a  soldier. 
He  handed  his  watch  to  the  man  who  was  to  kill  him, 
and  requested  him  to  shoot  him  in  the  head,  and  not  in 
the  back.  He  then  seated  himself  in  a  chair,  tied  a 
handkerchief  over  his  eyes,  bared  his  bosom,  and  re- 
ceived the  fire. 

"  As  different  divisions  were  brought  to  the  place  of 
execution,  they  were  ordered  to  sit  down  with  their 
backs  to  the  guard.  A  young  man,  of  the  name  of  Fen- 
ner,  rose  on  his  feet,  and  exclaimed,  'Boys,  they  are 
going  to  kill  us — die  with  your  faces  to  them,  like 
men ! '  At  the  same  time,  two  other  young  men,  swing- 
ing their  caps  over  their  heads,  shouted  at  the  top  of 
their  voices,  'Hurrah  for  Texas!' 

"  Many  attempted  to  escape ;  but  most  of  those  who 
survived  the  first  fire  were  pursued  by  the  cavalry  and 
cut  down.  It  is- believed  that  twenty-seven  of  those 
who  were  marched  out  to  be  slaughtered  made  their 
escape,  leaving  three  hundred  and  thirty  who  were 
butchered  in  cold  blood.  The  dead  were  then  stripped, 
and  their  naked  bodies  thrown  into  piles,  and  though 
an  attempt  w^as  made  to  burn  them,  it  did  not  fully  suc- 
ceed, and  many  of  them  were  left  a  prey  to  dogs  and 
vultures." 

Peace  to  the  ashes  of  these  noble  martyrs  of  liberty ! 


TEXAS.  205 

They  did  not  full  in  vain.  A  cry  for  vengeance  arose  to 
Heaven.  It  rung  through  the  land,  and  a  terrible  ret- 
ribution overtook  the  cruel  murderer  and  his  army  at 
the  battle  of  San  Jacinto. 

BATTLE   OF   SAN   JACINTO. 

The  battle  of  San  Jacinto  was  the  last  and  most  im- 
portant one  which  took  place  in  the  war  between  Texas 
and  Mexico.  Though  the  numbers  engaged  in  it  were 
not  very  large,  yet  the  victory  of  the  Texans  wjis  so 
great,  that  it  brought  the  war  to  a  close,  and  soon  led 
to  the  independence  of  Texas.  It  was  fought  on  Buffalo 
Bayou,  and  near  San  Jacinto  River,  in  Harris  county,  on 
April  21,  1836.  General  Santa  Anna,  the  President  of 
Mexico,  commanded  the  Mexicans,  and  General  Hous- 
ton led  the  Texans.  The  Mexicans  numbered  fif- 
teen hundred  men,  and  the  Texans  only  about  seven 
hundred.  We  need  not  describe  the  proud  advance 
of  the  Mexican  army,  the  retreat  of  the  Texans, 
the  burning  of  Ilarrisburg,  the  skirmishing  on  the 
20th,  and  other  incidents  which  took  place  before  the 
battle. 

General  Houston  called  a  council  of  war,  and  it  was  de- 
cided that  they  must  now  fight,  or  the  Mexicans  would 
drive  them  out  of  the  country,  and  compel  them  to  cross 
over  into  Louisiana.  Many  of  the  soldiers  were  impa- 
tient to  bring  the  matter  to  close  quarters,  and  were  de- 
termined either  to  meet  the  enemy  at  once,  or  else  go 
home  and  take  care  of  their  families  and  property,  which 
were  in  danger  of  being  destroyed  by  parties  from  the 
Mexican  army,  who  were  prowling  over  the  country.  It 
was  about  three  o'clock  on  the  afternoon  of  the  21  st,  when 
General  Houston  made  preparations  for  the  attack.  The 
Mexicans  seemed  to  be  almost  entirely  unprepared  for 
battle.     They  had  just  finished  their  dinner.  Some  were 


206  TEXAS. 

lounging  about  the  camp.  Some  were  playing  monte,  and 
many  were  taking  a  quiet  nap.  Santa  Anna  was  him- 
self asleep.  The  Texans  formed  their  plan  of  attack 
behind  the  shelter  of  some  trees,  which  concealed  them 
from  view.  Burleson's  regiment  was  placed  in  the 
center ;  Sherman's  on  the  left  wing,  and  the  cavalry, 
under  Lamar,  on  the  extreme  right.  The  artillery, 
including  the  "  Twin  Sisters,"  was  under  the  charge  of 
Hockley.  The  whole  army  was  soon  in  readiness.  The 
"  Twin  Sisters  "  now  advanced  to  within  two  hundred 
yards  of  the  Mexican  breastworks,  and  opened  a  de- 
structive fire  with  grape  and  canister.  Sherman's 
regiment  rushed  forward  and  began  the  attack  with 
great  fury.  The  whole  line  then  advanced  in  double- 
quick  time,  shouting,  " Eemember  the  Alamo !  "  "Re- 
member Goliad ! "  The  Mexicans  fired  as  the  Texans 
approached,  but  the  latter  reserved  their  fire  until  they 
were  within  pistol  shot.  They  then  opened  fire  along 
their  whole  line.  The  effect  of  this  discharge  was  ter- 
rible. They  made  no  halt.  Onward  they  rushed,  firing 
and  yelling  as  they  went.  The  Texan  cavalry  then 
charged  that  of  the  Mexicans,  who  immediately  fled; 
and  in  a  few  minutes  Burleson's  regiment  and  Millard's 
infantry  stormed  the  breastwork,  and  captured  their 
whole  artillery.  In  fifteen  minutes  after  the  charge, 
the  Mexicans  gave  way  at  all  points,  and  the  pursuit 
became  general.  Some  fled  to  the  river ;  some  to  the 
swamp,  and  most  of  them  to  a  clump  of  trees  in  their 
rear,  where  they  surrendered.  Such  was  their  terror, 
and  so  sudden  was  their  flight,  that  many  of  their 
cannon  were  left  loaded,  their  money  and  other  valuables 
left  untouched. — Those  that  were  asleep,  awoke  only 
to  be  overwhelmed  or  killed.  Those  that  were  cooking 
left  their  food  untouched;  and  those  that  were  playing 
monte,  left  the  game  unfinished.     The  swamp,  in  the 


TEXAS.  207 

rear  of  their  camp,  presented  an  awful  scene.  Men  and 
horses,  the  dead  and  dying,  were  piled  in  heaps,  and 
formed  a  bridge  over  which  their  terrible  pursuers  con- 
tinued the  chase.  The  Texans,  not  having  time  to  load 
their  guns,  used  them  as  clubs ;  and  then,  seizing  their 
bowie-knives,  slaughtered  the  poor  fugitives  like  sheep. 
Many  begged  for  their  lives,  but  no  quarter  was  given 
them.  Their  pursuers  remembered  the  many  fearful 
outrages  committed  by  the  Mexicans  on  former  occa- 
sions, and  they  were  determined  to  put  to  death  all 
who  came  within  their  power. 

At  dark  the  pursuit  of  the  flying  enemy  ceased. 
The  prisoners  who  surrendered  before  the  flight  com- 
menced, were  conducted  to  the  Texan  camp,  a  guard 
placed  over  them,  and  were  furnished  with  provisions. 
The  wounded  of  both  armies  were  cared  for.  In  sum- 
ming up  the  results  of  the  battle,  it  was  found  that  630 
Mexicans  were  killed,  208  wounded,  and  103  made  pris- 
oners. A  large  quantity  of  arms,  great  numbers  of 
mules  and  horses,  camp  equipage,  and  the  army  chest, 
containing  112,000,  were  captured.  The  Texans  had 
only  8  killed  and  25  w^ounded.  General  Houston  re- 
ceived a  wound  in  the  leg. 

On  the  morning  of  the  22d,  detachments  were  sent 
out  to  scour  the  country  in  the  direction  towards 
Harrisburg,  and  pick  up  stragglers.  A  party  of  five 
continued  their  search  down  Buffalo  Bayou.  One  of 
them,  in  the  act  of  shooting  a  deer,  saw  a  Mexican  hid- 
ing in  the  tall  grass,  with  a  blanket  over  his  head. 
They  called  to  him  to  rise  and  come  to  them.  He  ad- 
vanced, and  taking  one  of  them  by  the  hand,  kissed  it. 
They  asked  him  who  he  was.  He  replied  that  he  was 
only  a  private  soldier.  But,  seeing  some  gold  buttons 
on  his  shirt,  they  pointed  to  them.  He  then  burst  into 
tears,  and  begged  to  be  conducted  to  General  Houston. 


208  TEXAS. 

This  prisoner  was  none  other  than  the  celebrated  Santa 
Anna.  On  approaching  Houston,  he  announced  his 
name,  and  declared  himself  a  prisoner  of  war.  General 
Houston  was  reclining  beneath  a  tree,  and  was  suffer- 
ing considerable  pain  from  his  wound.  He,  however, 
received  the  prisoner  with  due  consideration.  Santa 
Anna  was  much  agitated  and  much  alarmed.  Knowing 
the  hatred  entertained  towards  him  by  the  Texans,  be- 
cause of  his  many  former  cruelties,  he  justly  feared 
their  vengeance.  He  asked  for  opium,  some  of  which 
he  swallowed,  whether  for  the  purpose  of  quieting  his 
nerves,  or  destroying  his  life,  we  know  not.  But  in  a 
few  minutes  he  recovered  his  usual  composure,  and  be- 
gan to  display  his  usual  vanity.  He  at  once  made 
application  to  be  released  from  captivity.  "  You,"  said 
he  to  Houston,  "  can  afford  to  be  generous,  for  you  have 
conquered  the  IN'apoleon  of  the  West !  "  General  Hous- 
ton distinctly  informed  him  that  he  should  be  turned 
over  to  the  civil  authorities.  President  Burnett  then 
took  charge  of  him ;  and  after  detaining  him  for  some 
time  a  prisoner,  he  was  permitted  to  go  to  Washington 
City,  from  whence  he  was  sent  home  by  General  Jack- 
son, in  a  vessel  of  war,  to  Vera  Cruz. 

Thus  ended  the  celebrated  battle  of  San  Jacinto. 
The  brave  band,  under  their  distinguished  leader,  ob- 
tained a  victory  as  glorious  as  any  other  recorded  in 
the  annals  of  history,  and  the  happy  consequences  of 
it  will  be  felt  in  Texas  in  all  future  generations.  It 
shows  what  brave  men  can  do  when  fighting  for  liberty 
against  tyrants. 

RELIGIOl^   IN-  TEXAS. 

Although  many  of  the  early  settlers  in  Texas  were 
immoral  in  their  habits,  yet  the  mass  of  the  people 
entertained  a  great  regard  for   religious   observances. 


TEXAS.  209 

Most  of  them  Avere  educated  in  the  older  States,  and 
brought  with  tliem  their  reverence  for  sacred  things. 
The  leading  men  among  them  were  well  aware  that  no 
people  can  be  prosperous  who  do  not  encourage  the 
worsliip  of  God.  This  was  particularly  true  after  the 
country  became  independent  of  Mexico.  It  was  then 
that  a  feeling  of  gratitude  to  Heaven,  for  its  blessing  on 
tlieir  efforts  to  become  a  free  people,  seemed  to  pervade 
all  classes,  and  ministers  of  the  Gospel,  of  all  denom- 
inations, were  cordially  welcomed  to  the  country.  It 
is  now  difficult  to  decide  what  Christian  sect  had 
the  honor  of  organizing  the  first  church  in  Texas. 
The  Methodists  and  Baptists  both  claim  this  distinc- 
tion. 

As  early  as  1818,  tlie  Rev.  Henry  Stephenson,  of  the 
Methodist  denomination,  preached  in  the  Kcd  Eiver 
settlements,  in  Western  Louisiana.  In  1824  he  paid  a 
visit  to  Texas,  and  preached  the  first  Protestant  sermon 
west  of  the  Brazos,  near  San  Felipe.  There  were  four 
families  present  on  that  occasion.  The  first  camp- 
meeting  was  held  in  Texas  in  1833,  ten  miles  from  San 
Augustine.  About  eighty  persons  attended.  A  few 
individuals  professed  religion,  and  a  church  was  organ- 
ized. On  January  17, 1838,  the  corner-stone  of  a  Meth- 
odist house  of  worship  was  laid  in  San  Augustine.  Gen. 
Thomas  J.  Rusk  delivered  an  address  on  the  occasion. 
This  w^as  the  first  effort  to  erect  a  church  building  west 
of  the  Sabine. 

In  1837,  the  Rev.  R.  Alexander,  D.D.,  emigrated  to 
Texas,  preached  extensively  throughout  the  State,  was 
the  means  of  doing  a  great  amount  of  good,  and  still 
lives  to  see  the  fruits  of  his  labors.  About  the  same 
time,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Ruter,  for  some  time  president  of 
Alleghany  College  in  Pennsylvania,  a  man  of  practical 
views,  sound  learning,  and  of  a  truly  missionary  spirit, 


210  TEXAS. 

settled  within  tlie  bounds  of  the  young  republic,  and 
labored  and  died  in  Texas. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  preachers,  whose  name 
appears  in  the  early  history  of  the  State,  was  Paul 
Denton.  He  was  early  left  an  orphan  in  Arkansas,  and 
liyed  in  a  family  where  he  was  treated  as  a  servant,  and 
had  to  cook,  wash,  scour,  and  perform  other  degrading 
work.  Until  he  was  twelve  years  of  age,  he  was  a 
stranger  to  hat  and  shoes.  "When  he  became  older,  he 
ran  away  from  his  oppressors,  and  commenced  life  for 
himself.  At  an  early  age  he  married,  and  learned  to 
read  and  write  after  becoming  the  head  of  a  family. 
He  finally  became  a  preacher,  and  soon  showed  remark- 
able powers  as  a  public  speaker.  He  was  a  man  of  fine 
person,  agreeable  manners,  and  although  without  any 
advantages  of  education,  displayed  a  high  degree  of  elo- 
quence. His  first  efforts  as  a  preacher  of  the  Gospel 
were  in  the  Eed  Lands  in  Eastern  Texas.  He  after- 
wards removed  to  the  northern  part  of  the  State.  He 
was  a  man  of  public  sx)irit,  and  was  brave  as  well  as 
good.  He  raised  a  company  of  volunteers  to  chastise 
the  Indians,  who  had  become  troublesome  to  the  white 
settlers,  and  was  killed  in  battle.  Texas  has  honored 
him  in  calling  a  county  by  his  name. 

Among  other  ministers  of  the  Gospel  who  came  to 
Texas  at  an  early  time  the  Eev.  Sumner  Bacon  is  worthy 
of  honorable  notice.  He  arrived  in  the  country  in  1828. 
He  was  a  native  of  Massachusetts,  and  was  first  a  soldier 
in  the  United  States  army  before  he  became  a  clergy- 
man. He  was  a  man  of  great  energy  and  courage.  In 
connection  with  his  duties  as  a  preacher,  he  distributed 
thousands  of  copies  of  the  Bible  from  the  Sabine  to  San 
Antonio.  On  one  occasion  he  was  overtaken  by  a  band 
of  ruffians,  who  seized  him  and  threatened  him  with 
instant  death.     He  begged  his  captors  to  first  join  with 


TEX.VS.  211 

him  in  prayer.  They  refused  to  unite  with  him,  but 
consented  that  he  might  first  pray  himself  before  they 
put  their  tlireat  into  execntion.  He  knelt  down  and 
prayed  so  fervently,  that  tliey  all  quietly  left  him.  On 
another  occasion,  as  he  and  some  others  were  preparing 
to  hold  religious  services  near  San  Antonio,  certain  per- 
sons sent  him  word  that  they  intended  to  come  and 
break  up  the  meeting.  Col.  James  Bowie,  being  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  hearing  of  their  purpose,  went  to  the 
place  where  the  meeting  was  to  be  held.  He  made  the 
sign  of  the  cross  on  the  ground,  and  informed  them  that 
he  was  captain  in  those  parts,  and  that  the  meeting 
should  take  place.  Knowing  the  character  of  Bowie, 
and  fearing  his  wrath,  the  opposers  of  the  meeting  with- 
drew, and  Bacon  and  his  friends  proceeded  with  their 
services.  Mr.  Bacon  belonged  to  the  Cumberland  Pres- 
byterian Church. 

AKIMALS   OF  TEXAS. 

A  stranger,  on  first  arriving  in  Texas,  is  struck  with 
the  large  size  and  spreading  horns  of  the  cattle.  Their 
large  and  superior  forms  are  probably  owdng  to  the  mild 
climate  and  the  abundance  of  grass,  which  yields  a  rich 
supply  of  food  at  all  seasons  of  the  year.  They  require 
no  other  care  than  occasional  herding  to  keep  them 
gentle  and  prevent  their  straying,  and  to  mark  the 
calves. 

Hogs  thrive  admirably  in  Texas  on  grass,  roots,  mast, 
and  fruits.  Pork  is  easily  converted  into  bacon,  and 
preserved  without  difficulty,  owing  greatly  to  the  pecu- 
liar dryness  of  the  air. 

Herds  of  wild  horses  feed  on  the  prairies,  and  increase 
in  numbers  as  you  proceed  west.  They  are  easily  sub- 
dued to  the  saddle.  The  catching  of  a  wild  horse  by  a 
Mexican  is  a  display  of  skill  and  valor  which  is  truly 


212  TEXAS. 

wonderful.  The  ranchero  on  horseback  dashes  among 
the  herd  as  they  rush  over  the  prairie,  and  swinging 
about  his  head  his  lariat — a  platted  rawhide  with  a  run- 
ning noose  at  the  end — he  throws  it  with  great  accuracy 
over  the  neck  of  the  wild  animal,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
he  is  run  down  and  captured.  Mules  are  also  raised  in 
great  numbers,  though  perhaps  not  so  good  as  those  of 
Kentucky. 

No  country  surpasses  Texas  in  abundance  of  game. 
Immeuse  herds  of  bnifalo  were  still  found,  within  a  few 
years  past,  in  the  northwestern  settlements.  Deer  flock 
over  every  j^rairie.  Wild  turkeys,  the  prairie  hen,  par- 
tridges, the  delicate  rice-bird,  with  numerous  others,  are 
found  in  great  numbers.  During  the  winter,  the  bays 
are  alive  with  thousands  of  wild  geese  and  ducks.  The 
flamingo  is  occasionally  seen  to  display  its  brilliant 
plumage.  The  stately  swan  frequents  the  waters  of  the 
bays;  and  around  the  houses  of  the  plantations  the 
mocking-bird  sings  its  melodious  notes. 

In  all  the  waters,  fish,  of  the  choicest  kind,  abound. 
Along  the  coast  are  oysters  of  the  largest  size  and  finest 
flavor. 

The  fiercest  wild  animal  in  Texas  is  probably  the 
panther,  though  it  is  rarely  met  with.  There  are  also 
bears,  wolves  and  a  few  wild-cats.  Among  the  lesser 
animals  are  the  opossum,  rabbit,  and  gray  squirrel. 

EAELY  CHUKCHES  li^  TEXAS. 

In  a  previous  article  it  will  be  seen  that  the  Method- 
ist Church  sent  the  largest  number  of  clergymen,  in 
early  times,  to  Texas. 

The  first  Baptist  preacher  who  came  to  the  country, 
was  the  Rev.  Joseph  Bays,  who  emigrated  from  Mis- 
souri, and  preached  on  Peach  Creek,  on  the  west  side  of 


TEXAS.  213 

the  Brazos,  in  the  year  182G.  In  a  short  time  he  re- 
moved to  San  Antonio,  where  he  continued  to  labor 
until  he  was  ordered  away  by  the  Mexican  autliorities. 
In  1829,  a  number  of  Baptists,  who  came  from  New 
York,  establislied  the  first  Sabbath-school  in  the  country, 
in  the  town  of  San  Felipe.  It  was  taught  by  T.  J.  Pil- 
grim, who  was  the  interpreter  of  the  Spanish  language 
in  Austin's  colony.  The  same  year  another  Sabbath- 
school  was  opened  at  Matagorda,  and  in  the  year  follow- 
ing a  similar  one  was  started  at  ''  Old  Caney,"  by 
members  of  the  same  Church.  After  this  time,  many 
members  and  ministers  of  the  Baptist  Church  came  to 
the  country  and  organized  churches  in  different  parts 
of  the  State. 

In  the  year  1838,  the  Rev.  Caleb  S.  Ives,  of  the  Prot- 
estant Episcopal  Church,  arrived  at  Matagorda,  where 
he  collected  a  congregation,  established  a  school,  and 
built  a  church.  He  continued  to.  labor  until  1819,  Avhen 
he  died.  In  the  fall  of  1838,  the  Rev.  R.  M.  Chapman, 
of  the  same  Church,  came  to  Houston  and  organized  a 
parish.  In  1810,  he  was  succeeded  by  Rev.  H.  B.  God- 
win. 

In  the  spring  of  1810,  the  Rt.  Rev.  Leonidas  Polk 
(late  General  Polk  of  the  Confederate  army)  visited  and 
explored  the  country  between  the  Trinity  and  the  Colo- 
rado. In  1811,  the  Rt.  Rev.  G.  W.  Freeman,  Bisliop  of 
Arkansas,  visited  the  churches  of  Texas,  and  continued 
his  visits  annually  for  several  years.  In  1811,  the  Rev. 
B.  Eaton  was  sent  out,  as  a  missionary,  to  Galveston 
and  Houston.  On  January  1,  1819,  a  separate  diocese 
was  organized  for  Texas  with  six  clergymen.  Since 
that  time  the  Episcopal  Church  has  continued  to  grow 
both  in  numbers  and  influence. 

The  Presbyterian  Church  was  not  among  the  pioneer 
churches  in  Texas.      About  the  year  1838,  the  Rev. 


214  TEXAS. 

Hugh  Wilson  arrived  in  the  new  republic.  He  was 
probably  the  first  Presbyterian  minister  who  settled  in 
Texas.  He  organized  a  Presbyterian  Church  in  San 
Antonio  shortly  after  his  arrival,  and  in  the  year  follow- 
ing established  one  at  Independence.  He  was  a  labori- 
ous and  useful  man,  and  will  always  stand  high  among 
the  first  ministers  of  the  Gospel  in  Texas.  The  Rev. 
John  McCulloch  came  to  Galveston  about  the  same 
time,  and  gathered  a  congregation  and  founded  a  Sab- 
bath-school under  many  disadvantages.  The  state  of 
morals  and  religion  in  the  Island  City  at  that  time  was 
not  very  favorable  to  the  efforts  of  the  young  mission- 
ary.* 

With  the  Rev.  W.  Y.  Allen,  at  Houston,  and  Rev.  W. 
C.  Blair,  P.  H.  Fullenwider,  I.J.  Henderson,  F.  Ruther- 
ford, and  a  few  others,  located  at  different  points  in  the 
State,  the  Presbyterian  Church  began,  about  the  year 
1840,  to  take  a  position  among  the  other  religious  de- 
nominations in  the  country,  and  has  been  gradually 
advancing  in  influence  and  usefulness  until  the  present 
time.  As  most  of  the  clergymen  referred  to  are  still 
living,  we  can  say  but  little  more  respecting  them  than 
merely  to  give  their  names. 

The  most  laborious  and  useful  minister  of  the  Pres- 
byterian Church,  who  ever  lived  in  Texas,  was  the  J.iev. 
Dr.  Baker,  who  died  within  a  few  years  past  at  Austin. 
He  was  a  man  of  great  energy  and  apostolic  zeal.  All 
could  see  that  his  sole  aim  aiid  purpose  was  to  preach 
the  Gospel  and  do  good  to  the  souls  of  men.  Coming 
to  Texas  as  a  missionary  about  the  year  1810,  he  visited 
almost  every  part  of  the  State,  and  preached  most  abun- 
dantly. In  all  weathers  and  in  all  places,  he  showed 
himself  the  fearless  soldier  of  the  cross.     With  a  fine 

*  Mr.  McCulloch  died  within  the  last  three  years. 


TEXAS.  215 

person,  a  silvery  voice,  and  often  with  melting  eyes,  he 
presented  the  great  truths  of  salvation  in  sncli  a  man- 
ner as  to  attract  large  congregations,  and  win  many 
converts  to  Christ.  At  last,  after  a  long  and  useful 
ministry,  he  died  a  peaceful  and  happy  death  in  the  city 
of  Austin.  The  college  at  Huntsville  owes  its  existence 
to  his  exertions. 


LETTEE    FEOM    ISTASHVILLE. 


the' TEXAS  DEAD  OF  HOOD's  BRIGADE  AT  THE  BATTLE 
OF  FRANKLIN". 


Nashville,  Tennessee,  Nov.  26,  1867. 
Being  in  attendance  as  a  delegate  from  Texas  to  the 
Southern  General  Assembly  of  the  Presbyterian  Church 
now  in  session  in  this  city,  I  accepted  an  invitation  a 
few  days  ago  to  visit  the  mansion  of  Colonel  John  Mc- 
Gavock  at  Franklin,  twenty  miles  from  Nashville,  that 
I  might  partake  of  his  princely  hospitality  and  view  the 
quiet  resting-place  of  those  Southern  soldiers  who  fell 
in  the  disastrous  battle  of  Franklin  on  the  30th  of  De- 
cember, 1864.  Three  Louisiana  friends  accompanied 
me.  Here  repose,  in  peaceful  graves,  the  mortal  remains 
of  nearly  fifteen  hundred  Confederate  soldiers  who  fell 
on  that  eventful  day.  Around  their  silent  dust  an  ele- 
gant iron  fence  is  now  near  its  completion,  erected  by 
the  citizens  of  Galveston,  Houston,  and  the  surround- 
ing villages,  through  the  agency  of  Miss  Gay,  of  Georgia, 
whose  presence  in  Houston  some  months  ago  will  be 
remembered  by  many,  and  whose  faithful  disbursement 
of  the  funds  contributed,  together  with  the  names  of 
every  Texian  contributor,  is  attested  by  documents  now 
in  the  hands  of  Colonel  McGavock.  In  full  view  of  the 
mansion,  and  on  a  gently-sloping  lawn,  we  entered  the 
gate,  and  paced  solemnly  down  the  smooth  walk  that 


LETTER  FROM  NASHVILLE.  217 

separates  the  long  rows  of  rounded  hillocks  where,  in 
regular  order,  are  interred  the  remains  of  Mississippians 
and  Tennesseans,  soldiers  from  Georgia,  Alabama,  and 
Texas — each  in  his  warrior  bed,  on  which  is  inscribed 
the  name,  company,  and  former  residence  of  the  occu- 
pant. "With  emotions  which  patriotic  and  Christian 
hearts  alone  can  fully  feel,  and  with  silent  tears  on  the 
cheeks  of  men  not  used  to  weep,  we  advanced  from 
grave  to  grave.  We  thought  of  the  bloody  strife  and 
of  these  sad  results.  Here  lies  the  mangled  body  of 
many  a  father  who  came  far  from  home  to  fight  the 
battles  of  his  country ;  of  many  a  son,  the  pride  of  his 
mother ;  of  many  a  brother,  the  idol  of  fond  sisters,  and 
many  more,  bound  to  distant  ones  by  still  tenderer  and 
holier  ties. 

But  the  largest  share  of  our  attention  and  the  deep- 
est sympathy  of  our  hearts  were  elicited,  as  we  stopped 
and  lingered  long  around  that  portion  of  the  ground 
where  lie  the  dead  from  Texas.  There  are  fifty-nine  in 
all,  with  the  name  of  the  Lone  Star  State  inscribed  on 
each  tablet.  Here  they  lie,  far  from  home,  and  many  a 
heart  was  left  desolate  by  their  fall.  How  grateful 
should  those  Texas  parents  feel,  whose  sons  were  spared 
through  many  a  bloody  conflict,  and  are  now  at  their 
happy  firesides,  cheering  their  households  by  their  pres- 
ence, and  cultivating  the  arts  of  peace.  Why  were  these 
taken  and  others  left  ?  AVhy  did  my  friend's  son  fall 
and  mine  escape?  "Even  so.  Father,  for  so  it  seemed 
good  in  thy  sight." 

But  we  would  not  omit  to  say,  that  on  many  of  the 
tablets  of  the  Texas  dead  no  name  is  lettered;  but  in 
its  stead  is  simply  the  word  ^^  Unknown !  " — unknown, 
alas,  his  name,  his  age,  his  calling — unknown  the  place 
where  his  kindred  dwell — and  unknown  to  kindred 
where  lies  the  body  of  their  lost  Texan  I     As  the  sad 

10 


218  LETTER  FROM  NASHVILLE. 

word  "  unknown  "  was  repeated  with  a  low  and  saddened 
voice  which  1  thought  none  near  me  could  hear,  the 
imposing  form  of  an  old  friend  (not  of  the  clerical  pro- 
fession) advanced  to  my  side,  and  with  quivering  lips 
uttered  these  cheering  words : 

* '  Unknown '  is  all  the  epitaph  can  tell — 
If  Jesus  knew  thee — all  is  well." 

I  now  looked  around  and  inquired  where  lie  the  re- 
mains of  General  Granberry — that  man  of  classic  taste, 
and  commanding  form,  and  trumpet  voice — Granberry, 
once  my  pupil,  who  sat  in  my  recitation-room  for  four 
full  years,  in  the  quiet  groves  of  Oakland  College.  "  He 
is  not  yet  here,"  replied  our  host;  "but  as  soon  as  his 
Texas  friends  shall  request  his  removal  from  a  neighbor- 
ing farm,  he  shall  come  here  also,  to  repose  among  his 
friends  who  fell  with  him  on  the  field  of  battle." 

To  those  in  Texas  who  have  friends  buried  in  this  at- 
tractive spot,  I  would  add  that  if  they  have  inquiries  to 
make,  or  requests  to  present  respecting  their  dead,  they 
may  communicate  without  reserve  with  Colonel  McGav- 
©ck,  the  proprietor  of  the  premises,  who  will  cheerfully 
and  promptly  impart  all  needed  information.  And  to 
some  who  may  ask  to  be  more  fully  informed  respecting 
the  agency  of  Miss  Gay,  who  presented  the  claims  of 
the  cemetery  to  their  consideration,  I  may  add  that  no 
one  more  worthy  of  their  confidence  could  have  been 
selected  to  convey  their  offerings  to  the  place  designated. 


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